A Game of Vengeance and Justice
by Psykic Ninja
Summary: Jasper Baratheon, second born son of Robert Baratheon, is respected by the nobles and commoners alike. However, in his fifteenth year, the Royal Family travels to Winterfell to name a new hand of the King and there begins a conflict that will tear apart Jasper's family and the realm itself as cunning lords and decadent kings will all play the game of thrones.
1. Jasper I

The North was just the same as Jasper remembered it from his last visit there, bleak yet with an attractive wildness to it, a wildness that called out for Jasper, and he wanted nothing more than to go riding through the barrows with only himself, his horse and his swords for company, there he could stay away from family politics and feuds and be free. That was one of the best things that Jasper had felt when he had been his uncle's ward on Dragonstone. Stannis was not a man who had a love of fun, but he was honest and there was no conflict on the former Targaryen Island between his mother's family and his father's. However he had not spent too much time on Dragonstone, and certainly not as much as he would like, he would at most spend three moons of every year on the Island, with another three at Storm's End, the ancestral seat of House Baratheon in the Stormlands, the remaining six were spent at King's Landing, where he would still be learning under Stannis, just not on Dragonstone, with occasional visits to Highgarden Casterly Rock and of course Winterfell, where he was going now.

It had been three weeks since the King's company, royal family included, had departed from King's Landing for Winterfell in the North, four since the death of Jon Arryn and Jasper's return to the Capital from Casterly Rock. Jasper, riding upon the back of his black horse Spectre, was at the rear of the company with Ser Arys Oakheart and several House Baratheon guardsmen. His older brother Joffrey was given the honour of riding at the front of the column and he was to ride at the back. His father, King Robert Baratheon rode in the middle with the wagon that held his younger brother and sister as well as his mother.

"Is something wrong Jasper?"

Jasper looked over to see Jasper's sworn shield, a former hedge knight called Beric Storm approaching. As the bastard son of a Storm Lord, Beric had not expected much, but then he won the tourney to be named Jasper's sworn shield nearly seven years ago now. He had brown hair that framed his face tightly, dark blue eyes and a thin nose and lips. Apparently he took after his mother, which was why Jasper, despite spending several moons of every year at Storm's End, his future seat, could not have worked out which Storm Lord had fathered Beric. It was only two years after they met each other, that Beric finally told him that he was the son of Ralph Buckler. "No", Jasper replied, "I am just bored."

Beric laughed, "you always get bored on long journeys", he pointed out.

"He speaks the truth my prince", Ser Arys added, his helm securely fastened and his white cloak billowing in the wind.

Jasper blew a stray strand of hair from his face, "I suspect that soon my father will pull us over so he can eat more".

"Him or your mother", Beric added, and the two of them laughed. "Where is Devan anyway?" Beric asked, and Jasper looked around for his squire.

"Back with the luggage", Jasper said, upon catching sight of his squire, who was sitting upon the carriage which was carrying all the luggage of the royal family.

Beric raised an eyebrow, "what is he doing there?"

Jasper shrugged, "he is probably bored too, so he decided to sit on the carriage rather than have to expend the effort of riding his horse".

"A pity you have grown out of that my prince", Ser Arys said, smiling at him, "I still remember when you used to do that".

"And got away with it every time", Jasper grinned at the memories, his mother had been so scornful of him when he used to do it, declaring it "unprincely". However, after his first visit to Dragonstone to learn the ways of the sea from Stannis, Jasper had been forced by his uncle to act more like the prince he was with the responsibilities he had. For some reason his mother had been angry when Stannis had changed him, she did not like it when Stannis had more influence over Jasper than herself. But she could blame only herself in Jasper's mind; she doted on Joffrey too much to pay much attention to him Tommen or Myrcella.

When they finally got near to Winterfell, the people of Winterfell were lined up at the road and watched as the Lannister-Baratheon column entered the Castle of Winterfell. As he was at the back, when he entered with Arys and the Baratheon guardsmen, and the people of Winterfell and the men of the caravan were already bowing before his father. He dismounted once they had been told to rise by Robert and headed over to the Starks, who were greeting his father like old friends. It had been two years since he had seen them and he was eager to do so again. So he approached the waiting line of Stark children and Lady Stark, Lord Eddard having taken his father to the crypts. "So", Jasper said as he appraised the line, looking over them from Bran at one end to Rickon at the other, beside his mother. "I travel up the Kingsroad in mostly unpleasant company, for over a month, and who do I find at the end? The Red Rabbits… and Arya", he added after a pause. Rickon giggled at the nickname, Arya scowled, Sansa blushed a little and Robb just smirked. They all liked the name he had given them, due to their hair all being red, apart from Arya's.

"You think you have had problems", Robb said, "we have been slaving away for weeks trying to get this castle ready for the King and his family, and who comes through the gate, the black bird."

Jasper scowled a little before he broke into a grin, laughed and rushed Robb, hugging him tightly. "It's good to see you Robb", he said.

"You too Jasper", Robb replied, grinning just as fiercely. Behind Robb, Jasper could see that Beric and Jon Snow were reconnecting, they had always been lose, both having the stigma of bastardry attached to them.

They pulled apart and Jasper bowed before Lady Catelyn, "my lady", he said kissing her hand when she offered it, "I hope I find you well".

"Very well, thank you prince Jasper", she said, smiling sweetly, a smile that was echoed by Sansa when Jasper reached her, after ruffling Rickon's hair affectionately.

"Sansa", Jasper greeted and then, before anything else could happen, he hugged her, breathing in the delicious scent of her hair as he did. "You look well."

"I am, thank you Jasper", Sansa replied, curtsying after Jasper had released her.

"You look well too Arya", Jasper greeted, "the dress suits you, you should wear them more often". Arya scowled and aimed a kick at Jasper, but he laughed and sidestepped it, she would forget the comment by dinner, that much he knew. "Now then", he said as he approached Bran, rolling up the sleeves on his black tunic, and holding his hand out, palm open and facing Bran. "Can you hit it this time Bran?" Bran nodded and aimed a punch at Jasper's hand, Jasper quickly swept his hand up tapped Bran on the head, spun around behind him and lifted him up from the waist. "Still too slow Bran", Jasper said, giving a fake roar. Then Jasper saw that Tommen and Myrcella were approaching, both looking sweet and shy and, since they had never met the Starks before, Jasper decided to introduce them. "Okay then, Starks, this is my sister Myrcella and my brother Tommen, greetings all around", he indicated them, "Myrcella and Tommen, these are my friends, Robb, Sansa, Arya and Bran and Rickon is…"Jasper looked around but Rickon and Lady Catelyn had disappeared. "Not here, anyway greetings to you as well." Jasper then shuddered and turned back to Robb, "is this the sort of thing that will happen whenever the king goes to visit a friend?"

'Yes it is', Robb replied, smiling at the grimace on Jasper's face.

"So I would have to do this sort of thing when my brother is King and he comes to visit me?" Robb nodded, still smiling as Jasper's grimace. "Jasper Baratheon, this is a very large skin of wine, greetings", Jasper took a large swig from the drinking skin he had just pulled out from behind his cloak.

"Mother let you have wine?" Myrcella asked in a sweet young voice.

"No", Jasper replied, "I was just pretending for you my sweet little sister, it is actually just water in here", he shook the skin, "wine comes later dear sister." He stroked his sister's hair in an affectionate way, with a loving look in his eyes, before looking back to Robb. "Shall we go inside then Robb, my siblings here have yet to see the delights of Winterfell."

It was several hours later, and Jasper was now waiting outside the great hall of Winterfell, with Arya Stark by his side. He still remembered from his previous visits how Arya wanted to do everything a boy would do, swords interested her more than needles and embroidery bored her as much as it did him. He got on well with Arya, but it was because he was the second son of the guest and that she was the second daughter of the host that they were to accompany each other to the feast. They were to go into the hall just ahead of Robb and Myrcella, who had barely taken her eyes off the auburn haired future Warden of the North, who were just in front of the pride and joy of the groups, Joffrey and Sansa. The first Stark daughter was gazing at Joffrey just as Myrcella was at Robb, if not more so. He turned from them to see Arya had been looking as well. He mimed retching with his hand and she giggled before the doors opened and Lord Stark and Jasper's mother led the way in, followed by his father and Lady Stark, then the three youngest children, Bran Rickon and Tommen, then he accompanied Arya, neither of them particularly happy with the occasion down to the main table, where they took their seats to watch the desired couples to follow their path and take their seats.

The feast was wonderful, with delicious meats, as good as any from the south, and fish as well, Jasper did not often get to enjoy fish, but he took the opportunity whilst he could, throughout the entire feast he and Arya held small competitions, big enough to enjoy themselves, but not so big that it caught the unwanted attentions of their mothers. It all started when Arya said, "you cannot fit that much meat in your mouth", indicating Jasper's fork which had a lot of meat on it.

Jasper grinned back at the young Stark. "I bet I can."

"Done", Arya replied and she watched as Jasper crammed a forkful of venison and pork into his mouth.

Cheeks bulging triumphantly, he tried to speak, but instead what emerged was"m mmm", mumbled through the mouthful.

"What?"

"I win", he grinned once he had swallowed it all, which was uncomfortable to say the least.

"Not yet", she declared angrily. Jasper wobbled his lower lip and mimicked fear, but his face quickly turned to a grin. "Give me a bet then", Arya challenged him. Jasper wondered whether he should, but then shrugged, he could always blame it on the wine later if he had to.

Jasper looked around before pulling Arya's cup towards him and filling it to the brim. He then pushed it gently back to Arya, "down that in one, no pauses, no spills." Arya simply took the cup and began to drink, Jasper watched intently but no spills came and she did not pause. It continued from there and, due to them sitting opposite them, Tommen and Myrcella also got involved, or they had moved down the table to avoid the drinking games of the older boys, which Jasper could see were rapidly getting out of hand. But, despite everything, it eventually became the three young ones ganging up on Jasper. "Go and kiss Jeyne Poole", Arya dared, "not a small one either, a big one".

Jasper looked down the table towards Sansa, for he remembered Jeyne Poole was a friend of Sansa, but he could not remember what she looked like. "Which one is she?" Jasper asked. Arya pointed her out so Jasper got up, walked over to Jeyne Poole gripped her upper arms and pulled her to her feet to the sounds of gasps, then he kissed her full on the lips. Her lips were unmoving in reply, so he wrapped his arms around her back and held her tightly never one to back down from a challenge, finally, just as she was beginning to get over the shock of kissing a prince, at least, from past experience, Jasper assumed that was what it was, Jasper parted, smiled at her and returned to his seat. He grinned at Arya when he sat down looked her in the eye, trying to work out, from his previous visits to Winterfell, exactly what he should make Arya do that she would hate, and it was in that manner that their game continued.

Next they made him dance with Lady Stark, his siblings knew full well that he hated dancing. But things finally came to ahead when Arya declared. "I bet I can hit Sansa from here."

"Your arms aren't long enough", Tommen pointed out.

"I think she means throwing food Tommen", Jasper replied and he looked at the grinning young girl to see her nodding. Jasper looked at the distance. _No way a girl can get that range and accuracy, even Arya_, he thought. "Go on then", he said. A few seconds later, Sansa was screaming about her dress and Arya was being marched off to bed, Jasper mocking a bow to her as she went.

It was not long after that when his mother indicated for him to take Tommen and Myrcella away, so he did and, feeling the tiredness wash over him all of a sudden, he went to bed himself.


	2. Arya I

Arya bolted from the room as fast as she could, staying just long enough to bow to the princess. She had had it with those stupid needlework lessons, pretending to be someone she was not whilst dreaming of swords and riding. But now her brothers were to fight the royal children and she refused to miss out on that so she sprinted through the keep, not wanting to miss too much an soon she arrived at her and Jon's secret place for watching the courtyard, a covered bridge overlooking the yard, with Jon already waiting there. "Arya", Jon said, smiling, "should you not be in your lessons?"

"They're boring", she replied, perching on the edge of the bridge to get a better view. "This is much more fun", she added, looking into the courtyard.

"Fun, but much more dangerous", Jon said, watching as well.

The courtyard appeared to have split into three different groups. The largest of these was the Stark group, where her brother Robb and Theon were waiting with much of the Stark's household guard watching. The second largest group wore red and the flags bore a golden lion, which Arya remembered as Lannister, and they appeared to be supporters of the crown prince Joffrey, who was waiting with them. He himself had a sigil that showed both sides of his family, the crowned stag and the lion of Lannister. The smallest of the groups, around twenty men or so, was made up of men bearing the Baratheon sigil of a black stag on a golden field. Arya could spot Jasper there, squatting down, sword resting point down in the ground and wearing the sigil himself as he cheered on his brother Tommen, who also bore the sigil, as he fought Arya's brother Bran.

"Why aren't you down there?" Arya asked Jon, "you could beat any of them."

Jon laughed a little as he ruffled Arya's hair, but she could see a look of slight pain on his face as he replied. "Bastards can't hurt royal blood, only trueborn swords can do that."

"I could do it", Arya said proudly, looking at the fight and deciding that it looked easy.

"I'd like to see you lift a longsword Arya", he told her. After a short pause he said, "I don't know why the crown prince is wearing that sigil."

"Why shouldn't he?" Arya asked, curious.

"Well, he gives his mother's house equality to his father's."

"And why shouldn't he", Arya asked fiercely, "who says that he shouldn't."

Jon only shrugged at that, "why don't you add Tully arms to your sigil then Arya?"

"Because a wolf eating a fish would look stupid", she replied coolly. "Besides", she added, "why should I have a sigil if I can't fight?"

Jon shrugged again, "girls get the sigils and not the swords, bastards get the swords and not the – yes Bran!" He interrupted himself and Arya looked down and saw that Bran had sent the young prince sprawling and was now standing over him with his sword raised high, ready to send him to the ground again if he got up once more. Ser Rodrik called the fight over and Robb clapped Bran on the back whilst Jasper helped his brother up, patting him on the head.

"Prince Jasper, Robb", Ser Rodrik called out, "how would you two like to spar?" Arya leaned over eagerly, desperate to see the boy she had sat next to in action. He had proven that he liked a bit of fun, but would he be able to beat her brother with a sword, Robb was not as good as Jon, but he was still very good. Jasper rose to his feet and pulled his wooden training sword free and gave it some practice twirls stepped forward to face Robb. As soon as Rodrik gave the word, Jasper launched himself at Robb in an unrelenting barrage of slashes and thrusts that, Arya could tell, Robb only just managed to block. She even heard Jon take a sharp breath at the sight. Jasper then broke off and backpedalled several steps, holding his sword out in front of him in a defensive style. Robb launched the next attacks. Where Jasper had speed, Robb had raw power and the clacking of the wooden blades against each other was very audible even to them on their hidden bridge. But Robb could not break the black prince's guard and the two fighters separated again. But instead of letting Robb get back, Jasper immediately pressed forward with an attack of his own, catching Robb flatfooted and knocking Robb's sword aside and slamming the wooden edge into Robb's stomach, doubling him over, wheezing, as Jasper helped him up.

"Well played", Jon murmured.

"Wow", Arya said, "he was so fast."

"That's not the most impressive thing", Jon told her, "he was thinking clearly while he fought, he attacked first to see what Robb's defences were like, then he defended to see what his attacks were like and which of those it would be easier to win against, in this case Robb's defence."

"How can you win when the other person is attacking you?" Arya asked curious, it made no sense after all, how could you win when not attacking.

But Jon merely patted her head softly. 2Ah my dear sister, you may love sword fighting but you really know nothing about it do you."

"Shut up."

Jon laughed, "I heard the second son of the king was taught in swordplay by Barristan Selmy, it seems it was true."

"Who is Barristan Selmy?" Arya asked, feeling like she should probably know the answer to that.

"The Lord Commander of the Kingsguard", he told her in reply. Arya looked over at the courtyard to see Jasper and Robb shaking hands tightly, before they pulled each other into a one armed hug. They both suddenly looked over at Joffrey and, by straining her ears, she could just make out what he was saying.

"Weak and foolish as always brother, why are you so eager to engage in these childish games?" The way he was speaking did not sit well with Arya, it was no way to treat a brother, or a host.

Robb made to move at the prince in anger, she could tell, but Jasper put his hand on her brother's shoulder and whispered something in his ear. Robb broke into a grin and nodded and Jasper walked back to his men as Robb went back to the Stark corner.

"What is it?" Joffrey demanded, to which neither Robb nor Jasper replied. "What did you say?!" Again there was no reply. "You will answer your brother Jasper, what did you SAY?!" Jasper continued to ignore his brother, talking quite happily to his guard, Beric, at least, that was what Arya remembered him saying, but she might be wrong. But then, things escalated rather rapidly and Arya had to be restrained by Jon, before she jumped over the edge in response to what Joffrey said next. "You have always been like this brother, weak, you are just like father, a weak and foolish cunt, you have no willpower, you are childish and just like him you love these mongrel Starks with their mud hole and their pathetic swordplay!" Arya couldn't make out what was being said next because in amongst the words she knew there were dozens of words that she didn't. Had she been in a more somber state of mind, she might have asked what the words meant, but all she wanted was to break free of Jon's arms and beat the prince bloody.

"That prince is an idiot", Jon muttered, "I would never insult someone that way if I had just seen them fight like that."

Arya could tell that Jon was right, for she could see Jasper flexing his fingers from here and he looked like he was trying to stop himself. But then, it happened. "You look nothing like our family brother, you lack our hair, and our eyes, so how do we know that you are not some bastard that our father brought home, mothered by some common whore!" In a movement so quick that Arya could not follow it, the crown prince was on the floor, clutching his face with blood leaking from between his fingers. But it did not stop there, in moments Jasper was on top of him. Arya couldn't see the results, for Jasper was facing away from them so she could not see where his fists landed, but it looked as though he was trying to pummel the prince into the earth. This was backed up by the fact that several of the Lannister guards were rushing over to stop it. But they were stopped by some of the Baratheon men and swords were drawn. But they could still hear the sounds of flesh against flesh and Jon winced at it.

Arya and Jon wordlessly decided to go and get a closer look. They rushed down but even inside they heard the massive roar from Ser Rodrik. "ENOUGH OF THIS MADNESS!" They made it out to a stunned scene. Jasper was standing over the body of his brother, who was cringing and weeping, tears and blood coating his face and chest like someone had poured a barrel of wine over it. The man Arya assumed was Beric had locked swords with the huge man with the hound helm that she had seen when the Royal party arrived at Winterfell. The Stark guardsmen had drawn their weapons and looked like they were about to interfere and stop the fight by force. Jasper then turned and stormed out of the courtyard, marching straight towards the Great Keep, here the Royal family and her own were located, without looking back. Arya saw his bloody knuckles, although she suspected the blood was from his brother more than him, he almost bowled her aside as he passed and Arya, not wanting to anger him, looked away. Then she saw prince Joffrey, his nose had not simply bleeding, it had imploded, blood covered his face and leaked down onto his shirt, mixed with the tears.

As Ser Rodrik ordered all the guardsmen restrained until the situation had been resolved, Arya turned and hurried along to follow Jasper Baratheon. She snuck into the Great Hall, where the royal and Stark adults were waiting and talking, with six of the knights of the Kingsguard and several dozen Stark Guardsmen present as well. The adults all looked over at him as he approached and his mother gasped at the sight of the blood. But before she could say anything, Jasper had dropped to one knee, his gaze locked with the floor. "Lord Stark, I must beg forgiveness", he said, in a surprisingly calm voice given what had just happened, "you have accepted me into your home, and I have behaved disgustingly, you have been most kind to me, and you do not deserve it, I shall take my leave of you immediately and begin riding south. Should you accept the post of Hand of the King, it may be that I shall meet you at the ruins of Moat Cailin, where I shall wait for my family." Without another word, he got up, turned and walked straight towards the exit of the hall.

"Jasper", the King called. "What have you done?"

Jasper turned and looked at his father, Arya wondered if he still had the look of thunder on2 his face that she had seen. "Step outside and see for yourself. I shall take what little I need with me, he continued, "but you may need to bring some of my belongings back with you father, just try and keep Joffrey's hands off them, I would hate to have to break them too." And he marched swiftly from the room. The adults all looked at each other, before they all made for the entrance and Arya, knowing that she should still be in her lessons, rushed off after Jasper so that she wasn't caught. She did not doubt that the whole castle could hear the queen's screams when she left the keep and saw the scene outside.

Arya knocked on the prince's door and waited patiently for him to open it. When he did, he saw that he had a cloth in one hand and was trying to wipe the blood from his hand and shirt. "Arya", he said in surprise. "What are you doing here?"

"I saw what happened", she said simply.

"Ah", Jasper replied and he stepped back into his room, but left the door open and so Arya, deciding that she could, followed him in. She saw him bunging some of his positions, clothes and other accessories into saddle bags.

"You really are leaving then?" She asked him, to which he made some noise of agreement. "Why did you attack him, what he said was not so bad."

He turned around, holding his sword by its scabbard and looked at her. "You don't understand", he said finally, after having spent a short time deciding what to say. "All my life at court I have had to deal with the fact that I am the one person who did not get my mother's hair, or her eyes, the black haired blue eyed son of the great Robert Baratheon, who actually looks more like his brother Stannis", he said mockingly.

"So", Arya shrugged, "I look like my aunt."

'But you are in the North', he pointed out, "in the south things like this matter, I have neither my siblings' looks nor their supposed beauty, my mother resents my looks, my father is a drunk, my older brother considers me inferior scum and my other uncle appears resentful that one day I shall take his seat of Storm's End." Jasper sighed, "besides", he added, "your aunt was dead before you were born, my uncle was not, no one says anything about it, but looking more like Stannis than my father has had unspoken consequences." He crammed some last personal possessions into his saddle bags, tied his sword belt on, which Arya noted had the usual two swords on it, the longsword which rested at his hip and the shortsword he put at his lower back, pulled on his cloak and looked around the room. Apparently deeming everything else unimportant, he gathered the bags up and looked at her. "Stay safe Arya, I hope to see you soon." He made his way to the door.

But before he got to the door, it was opened from the other side and his sworn shield entered the room. "Jasper, if you still mean to leave, we should go now."

"How are things in the courtyard?"

Beric made a face. "Your mother wants blood, the Lannisters said that you attacked Joffrey out of nowhere, luckily the Starks backed us up in what Joffrey said. Your father tells you that he will smooth things over with the Starks and discipline Joffrey further for what he did."

"What about Devan, where is he?"

"He is readying the horses now; will he be coming with us?" Arya just looked between the two of them, not having a clue who Devan was.

"Of course", Jasper replied, as though it was obvious, "firstly, he is my squire, secondly, I would not leave him here where Joffrey can take vengeance against him since he cannot do it to me." The knight Beric nodded.

Jasper nodded back and moved to the door, and passed some of his bags to Beric, so they both had one hand free. However, he turned at the door and smiled down at Arya. "I like you Arya", he said simply, he put his free hand on her cheek and stroked it with his thumb, before swiftly leaving the room with his sworn shield. Arya blinked before making her way back to her old room, where any thoughts of meeting the prince again and getting him to teach her some of his sword techniques were driven out of the window by the sight of her mother and Septa Mordane, who were glaring daggers at her.


	3. Eddard I

_A/N: Okay, not entirely sure if I said something to prompt that review from WhiteNationalist, but anyway, here is Chapter Three, thanks for the reviews favourites and follows guys, they really help. I also feel like I should say that I am currently up to writing into events of what would be season/ book three if it weren't for the major changes I have put in for this story, I am simply spacing out my updates so that I don't catch up to myself too quickly so that, even though I have planned out the story to the end, I do not reach the point of having to wait for months to update due to writer's block. _

_Anyway, back to the story._

"I am sorry about that business Ned, I don't know what came over Jasper." Ned looked over at Robert. It was the final night of the royal visit, the household had packed the equipment and belongings that would be being taken to King's Landing and Ned had taken one of his precious few moments away from Bran's side to have a personal dinner with the king, for old times' sake. Ned nodded in acceptance. He thought back to when Jasper had taken his rapid leave of Winterfell with his sworn shield and he, his beloved wife, Robert and the queen had rushed outside to see the commotion and found the Lannister and Baratheon men up in arms, with many of them being subdued by the Stark guardsmen forcefully, with the Prince crawling on the dirt trying to hide his face. He had been rapidly taken inside and bandaged up, but his face was still covered in them, for he had a broken nose, that would probably never go back to looking how it was before and a massive black eye. They had managed to avoid having a full investigation into the men present when it was decided that Robert would discipline both of the boys harshly when they got back to the capital. Ned had been shocked by the queen's reaction. He knew southerners were not a family loving as the Northern lords but she had all but called for her second son's head for beating his brother to such a degree, but Robert shot her down swiftly. He declared that, since Joffrey taunted his brother, he should have been able to follow through with skill in defence, he claimed that, had he taunted Stannis to such a degree when they were boys, even the hard and rigid Stannis would have beaten him to a pulp as well, "or at least, he would have tried", he had said, staring pointedly at his first born, who averted his eyes at that pronouncement. Sansa, was instantly horrified that Jasper would attack Joffrey to such a degree, calling him a beast to which Arya, for reasons best known to herself, called Joffrey a beast, yanked out some of her hair and stormed from the room.

"Jasper has been here before", Ned said to his friend, "he has never been anything but courteous before. Why should he treat Joffrey like that, even after what Joffrey said, it went a bit far."

Robert chuckled, surprising Ned as he did so. "Jasper has had it hard in the capital", he explained, "I think that is why he went away so much, he spends as much time as possible at Storm's End or some other castle. But in the capital he is treated badly, Joffrey considers him scum and Cersei, well Cersei hates him for looking too much like me. In all the arguments between the two of them, Cersei always took Joffrey's side. Hmph", he said, drinking a large amount of ale, "I wish that Jasper had been born first, he may not be perfect, for he doesn't wish to settle down at all, but he would be a far better king than either Joffrey or myself."

"Name him your heir then", Ned said, pointing out the obvious solution to the problem.

But Robert only laughed, "then he would hate me, Joffrey would hate me, Cersei would hate me and there would be war between the two." Robert's face fell slightly, "conflict between brothers is always the worst. Don't think I haven't considered it, but Jasper does not want the throne."

"Why not?" Ned asked.

"Many could ask you the same question Ned", Robert pointed out; "you could have taken the throne when you arrived in the capital, but you did not."

"It was not mine, it would never have been mine had the greatest Lords in the Realm all died, the throne would not have been mine", Ned replied calmly.

"Well", Robert replied, "it wasn't mine either, but now it is, but Jasper doesn't want the throne because… well to be honest I am not entirely sure", he confessed, taking a bite of his pork, "but he has never expressed any desire to sit on it, when I let him once, he just said it hurt his arse and got off and walked back to his sword fighting lesson with ser Barristan. Ha!" Robert took another large swig of his wine, causing Ned to shake his head in wonder, it still amazed him just how much his friend could drink, although it had shown itself in a very prominent belly. "Gods I wish I was as free as that boy wants to be."

"Do you think he will be okay at Moat Cailin?" Ned asked, slightly worried for the boy, for the ruins of that place do not make for an ideal resting place, "far better to stay at a holdfast."

Robert laughed again, "he is probably having the time of his life, riding across those rolling hills we saw, hunting for his own food. When he was nine, he survived for two weeks in the Rainwood alone, before he was found by Davos Seaworth."

"The Onion Knight?" Ned asked, he had heard all about how Davos smuggled the onions into Storm's End for the siege, saving Stannis Baratheon.

"Aye, the Onion knight brought the prince back to the capital, well, in chains really, he just wanted to keep exploring the woods. That was despite the fact that he was severely ill soon afterwards because he hadn't been cooking his meat right", Robert shook his head smiling and Ned could see the admiration he had for his second son, and wondered absently if he ever actually showed him any, thinking back to the time in the Eyrie when he barely looked at his bastard daughter after the first week of her life. "As a reward for that, his son Devan is now Jasper's squire, whilst he has another son, Stannis, being squired by my brother, Stannis."

"That must get confusing." Ned pointed out, trying to imagine dinner conversations.

Robert only laughed and went back to his food. "I tell you Ned", he said finally, getting back to the topic of his second son, "that boy is as different as night from day in relation to me, bar his hair, he is more Stannis than me, but the difference is greater in character. He has yet to fuck a woman, he says that should he father a bastard he would take care of it like a trueborn."

"How old is he?" Ned asked, surprised at the fact that a noble boy of around sixteen and who grew up in the south had yet to lie with a woman.

"Fifteen, by then I had already been with several", Robert said, unashamedly.

"By fifteen you already had a daughter", Ned pointed out. Bringing the topic back in once more, for talking about the Vale brought forward memories of Jon Arryn, which neither of them wanted to discuss, Ned said, "so no women at all?"

"Not a one Ned", Robert replied, "not to say he doesn't have his eye on one, there is this one girl, Raena, or was it Raela, or… I don't know, something like that, a Wendwater. She patched him up after his first tourney and has been a frequent companion every time she comes to the capital. She's not the best looking, nothing on what your Sansa will grow into, but she is fine enough."

"Would you allow such a match?" Ned asked his friend, "Wendwater doesn't ring any bells." Ned was curious, for Robert was completely in love with his sister Lyanna and was open about the fact he did not wish to marry when she died, but that was an arranged marriage.

"Wendwater can raise barely a thousand men at arms", Robert replied, "not the weakest but not the strongest either. But I probably would if I had a choice."

"If you had a choice?" Ned repeated, "you are king and the boy's father."

"Well the boy's mother would kill the girl before she could get into the wedding bed, she has already started looking at Lannister cousins and Mace Tyrell has also expressed an interest for his daughter Margaery, next to them, this Rae… whatever, is nothing. I doubt her father has even considered it."

"So you'll marry him off to one of them then?" Ned asked.

Robert shrugged, "maybe the Tyrell girl, they are already friends and, as the future Lord of the Stormlands, he will need a wife, but I suspect that Jasper would throw himself from the Red Keep if he had to marry a Lannister girl. Or maybe he would throw her off it."

"He doesn't like the Lannisters then?"

"He seems to think that all Lannister women are like his mother, which, if we're honest, they probably are just as stuck up bitches', Robert said, grimacing at the mention of his wife, 'but he likes Tyrion and… respects if he doesn't like Tywin Lannister."

Ned looked at him in surprise. "You let him meet Tywin Lannister? You do remember what that man di-".

"Oh don't start on that again", Robert interrupted. "Besides, Lord Tywin has not been teaching Jasper the art of killing babies, he has drawn the line there, besides, Stannis is his official mentor and guardian, so he cannot have him for long enough to teach the boy". Robert looked around, making sure that they were truly alone. "In fact, not many people know this, Jasper himself is one of the few that is aware, but tell no one, Twin Lannister wanted to take Jasper as his own ward after his first few meetings with the boy."

"What?" Ned said in response to that, "but Tywin Lannister doesn't take wards he was known for it, I mean2, he continued, "I know he was going to foster Robin Arryn before his mother fled back to the Eyrie, but even so, it is unheard of."

"Actually, Stannis is adamant that he was to take guardianship over Robin Arryn", Robert commented, "but back to Tywin, he wanted to take Jasper and name him the heir to Casterly Rock, ahead of Tyrion, since Jaime is a Kingsguard", Robert ignored Ned as he made a face, for he had always argued against keeping the Kingslayer in the Kingsguard, but Robert had not listened to Ned, or Stannis, or Jon about the issue. "Unfortunately for him, I had named him the heir to Storm's End already."

"Tywin Lannister, the man who put house Lannister on the map once again, was willing to let Casterly Rock go to House Baratheon?" Ned asked, incredulous, that made no sense at all.

Robert shook his head, "one of the criteria for that was that Jasper be adopted into House Lannister, which would be possible due to his mother. But I don't care how much gold I owe that man; I would never name my Black Prince into the House of Lannister."

After a few seconds of silence, in which Ned was able to appreciate Robert's act in that sense, Jasper was a good boy and should not have to be corrupted by Tywin Lannister's ruthlessness, Ned asked, "and what did Jasper think of that?"

"He was intrigued", he replied, "being the heir to Tywin Lannister would make him the heir to the greatest fortune in the Kingdoms and the greatest power besides the King's. But, he refused to part from the Stag banner and, as the lord of Storm's End, he would be closer to the Capital and would have one of the strongest forces at his disposal. Not to say those of House Lannister are bad", Robert said in a conciliatory tone, despite their being no Lannisters present, "or indeed", he added nodding to Ned, "those of the North, but in the Stormlands we have the finest foot levies than any in the Kingdoms. Only individual groups like the City Watch of Lannisport are finer than the Stormlander foot."

Ned nodded, for he had seen the Stormlander foot in action at the Trident and at Pyke in Robert's and Balon Greyjoy's rebellions, at the Ruby Ford, as it was now called, they had been recognisably superior to the Targaryen foot that faced them on the other side.

There was only one more thing about Jasper that Ned wanted to know, "he apologised for what he did", he said to Robert who looked over at him, "does he regret his action."

Robert laughed out loud at that, "Jasper, regret pummelling his brother's face into the dirt, the day would sooner come that Stannis would visit a whorehouse than that happening", he calmed down before continuing, "no Jasper does not regret attacking him in the slightest, at least, not if I were to guess, I think he simply regrets doing it here, he does not like to insult people does Jasper."

Ned then got a sneaking suspicion, "are you not surprised that he attacked Joffrey?"

"Surprised, not at all", Robert replied, "again, I am surprised it happened here but to be honest, I am surprised that he had not already done so, Joffrey has had it coming to him."

"Robert", Ned said, sternly, "have I made a mistake in betrothing Sansa to Joffrey?"

Robert took a while to reply, "he may not be the most…" Robert was clearly struggling to find the appropriate words, "worldly of people", he finished, "but he knows how he is expected to treat a woman. Besides", he added, "I am not dead yet and there is always time for him to learn."

Ned gave a non committal noise that Robert didn't hear, but if things continued like this, then Sansa would have to be promised to another and Stark and Baratheon would not unite.


	4. Jasper II

Jasper was crouching by the Ruby ford, peering into the water by the bank of the river, trying to identify if there were any rubies from Rhaegar's armour present. He had met up with the Royal carriage at the ruins of Moat Cailin, where he, Devan and Beric had been resting, spending their days riding atop the barrows. Jasper had been more than a little pleased to see Joffrey still had a bandage going around his nose. The party had decided to stop at Castle Darry on the way back south for a while and Jasper had used the opportunity to leave the main column again, where he could avoid the awkward stares at him, for the tale seemed to have spread, and the fawning over his brother that made him want to retch. In truth, the Ruby ford was just a viable excuse that came to mind, he did not expect to find anything in the water, for they had surely been stripped clean years ago, or washed downstream by the currents of the Trident.

"You don't truly expect to find anything, do you Jasper?" Beric asked, ever able to discern Jasper's thoughts whilst they were still in his own head. Just as Jasper opened his mouth to reply, he smelled something, giving Beric the warning look, he caught Devan's eye and beckoned him over, silently drawing his sword from its scabbard. However, he need not have worried, the smell belonged to a boy with bright red hair and freckles who was being chased by, he should not have been surprised, Arya. Both of them were carrying sticks and clearly play fighting, although it was shoddy work, the hacks and cuts that they made reminded Jasper of when he had first started training with Ser Aron Santagar and Barristan Selmy in the Red Keep. Their focus was also appalling, for Jasper got up, and walked up behind Arya, causing the red-head to freeze in fear and Arya, not noticing that he was looking over her head made to hit him, but Jasper caught the stick deftly and yanked it from her grasp, rapping her on the top of the head with it.

"What are you doing?" Arya demanded, spinning when she felt her stick pulled from her hand. She stuttered to a halt when she saw him, clearly not having noticed him.

"Me, nothing", Jasper replied, holding the stick out of Arya's reach, "but I think the better question here is, what were _you_ doing?"

"Fighting."

"No no", Jasper replied, his face beginning to split into a grin, "that was not fighting, I was watching from over there", he pointed to where he, Beric and Devan had been squatting by the bank. "That was swinging, fighting is something else entirely", Jasper pulled Devan close to him, "this is Devan, and he can fight."

"Well, why don't you show us then?" Arya demanded, whilst the boy stayed silent throughout the whole conversation, clearly intimidated by the presence of the Prince.

"Done", Jasper said, dropping the stick in the ground, drawing his sword and nodding to Beric who did the same. "Sit down by the river children, and watch the masters at work." He and Beric settled into basic stances, before Jasper turned to look at them. "Firstly, when you swing, you don't want to swing to wide", Jasper told the onlookers, "if you do", he nodded at Beric, who swung out widely, just as the children had been, but slower, as it was a demonstration, "you leave yourself open to attack", Jasper quickly poked Beric lightly with the end of his sword. "You want to keep your sword in a position to defend yourself." He continued, "which is why the best stances are here", he held his sword out in front of him, so that the tip was in line with his nose, "and here", he raised his sword high above his head. "These positions allow you to defend yourself whilst being able to attack."

Jasper nodded and Beric attacked him several times with basic attacks, whilst he parried them swiftly and efficiently before attacking himself, he then switched to the other stance and demonstrated the effects again. "But before we can get on to that, you need to know the basics", he declared and put his sword point down in the grass. "Up, all three of you", he said, looking pointedly at Devan as he did so. The three of them got up and, whilst Arya and the boy picked up their sticks again, Devan retrieved his own practice sword, which he had left in the undergrowth from where they were hiding.

"Okay", Jasper said, after spacing them out so that they would not hit each other with wild swings. "The first strike you will learn is simply a diagonal strike from right to left." They all did it, not surprisingly, Devan was the best, having trained in that particular cut endless times under Jasper's tutelage. Very surprisingly however, Arya was noticeably worse than the others, shifting her hips to accommodate an awkward swing, her grip was weak and flimsy. Jasper wondered something, he had never seen a trained knight who was left handed, but maybe Arya was. "Are you left handed Arya?"

She nodded, "yes"

"Good, that will surprise any opponent. Very well", he continued, "you will strike from upper left to lower right."

"Can I use your sword?" Arya asked, to which Jasper raised his eyebrow, "maybe just your short one", she pointed at the shortsword Jasper kept at his lower back.

Jasper drove his longsword into the ground and pulled out his shortsword. "No", he said after examining it.

"Why not?"

"Because", Jasper said, "you are not ready to use a real sword."

"Why not?" Arya asked again.

Jasper nodded to Beric who nodded back and then he replied, "this is why." In the blink of an eye he had raised his shortsword above his head and brought it down towards Arya, who dropped to the ground, as Jasper brought his arm to a halt.

"Are you trying to kill me?!" She demanded scrambling to her feet, thwacking Jasper in the side with her stick.

"No", Jasper replied calmly, "and that strike would not have killed you."

"Yes it would have", Arya demanded.

But Jasper shook his head. "No, walk up to the blade", Arya didn't move so Jasper walked forward, his sword perfectly still. It passed barely a hair's breadth from Arya's scalp, but never touched it. "Unless you can control a sword like this", he told all three of them, "then you will not train using a proper blade."

The lesson learned, the five of them passed a happy few hours training in the basics, Devan was the best, understandably as he had already done this sort of thing before; Arya was next, for she had a surprising amount of skill for someone who had never trained before. The boy, whom Jasper learned was called Mycah, did not have much skill at all and was struggling with the basics, but Jasper concluded that he had seen worse in the training areas in the Red Keep.

Not long in to the training however, Jasper noticed something. "Arya", he asked looking around, "where's… um…" he mimed pawing at the ground as the word was at the tip of his tongue, "Nymeria?"He finally remembered.

"Father kept her at the camp", Arya explained, "didn't want her running about." She looked down about it so Jasper did not press the issue.

It was then that this pleasant, summer afternoon was spoiled by the arrival of a snotty little blonde haired prick. "Ah look, Jasper is playing with the children."

Jasper, who had just been explaining the difference between a parry and a block to Arya and Mycah, gritted his teeth just like his mentor Stannis, and turned on his heel to see Joffrey approaching with Sansa in tow. In the weeks of travelling, the bandage across his face had been removed, although the middle of his face still had a pinkish hue and his nose seemed slightly more crooked than it was before, unfortunately, not as much as Jasper would have liked. "Joffrey", Jasper greeted, before bowing at the waist to Sansa, "my lady." Sansa looked at him with disdain and Jasper could not work out whether that was for training Arya, or for attacking Joffrey, but he strongly suspected the latter, for Sansa, although clearly beautiful, was also very naive and all she probably saw was a monster who attacked her beloved. "May I ask what you are doing here?"

"I am taking my beloved for a walk along the river", Joffrey explained. "And you are playing with sticks; do you not think you are too old to be doing that?"

Jasper shrugged and turned back to his trainees, muttering under his breath so only the trainees and Beric could hear, "keep going on about sticks and I'll shove them all up your arse." Arya stifled a small laugh with her fist before straightening her face.

"Would you need help with a demonstration brother?" Joffrey asked and Jasper turned to him in surprise, it was not like Joffrey to offer to train, let alone demonstrate, he normally left that to the Hound.

Cautiously, very cautiously, and because he didn't want to embarrass Joffrey, for he had not yet provoked Jasper and the witnesses would say so, Jasper nodded. Joffrey pulled out his sword and took Beric's place who looked on with trepidation, but Jasper nodded to him and he stood to the side, still with his hand on his sheathed sword.

"Another key lesson you must learn, is that the blade is not the only part of the sword", Jasper said loudly. "Brother, if you would do the honours", he beckoned Joffrey on, who attacked with a clumsy strike. Jasper stepped forward, into the arc of the blow, parried it, slammed the pommel of his sword into Joffrey's shoulder before pointing his sword at his brother's neck. Joffrey cried out at the blow and stumbled backwards. "You see", Jasper said turning to the children, "that was a clear demonstration of why-" Arya screamed slightly and pointed behind him. Time slowed down as Jasper turned, he saw Arya's point, he heard a second cry from Sansa, a yell from Devan and Beric's sword being drawn. Then he saw his brother, and more importantly his brother's sword coming straight for his belly. Beric deflected the blow but the blade still sliced straight into Jasper's thigh. Jasper gasped as he felt the metal slice his skin and his blood begin to spill from the long cut, which was several inches wide but thankfully not very deep, at least, it didn't seem it. Jasper stumbled back and tripped over a fallen stick, landing hard on the river bank.

"You must also be prepared to defend against any attack", Joffrey said in a disgustingly gloating-like manner.

"That wasn't fair!" Arya yelled out vehemently. "You attacked whilst his back was turned, we weren't training on that you coward!"

"Don't call me a coward!" Joffrey roared as Sansa yelled a chastisement to her sister. But Arya was too quick and she smacked Joffrey over the head with her stick several times. Joffrey cried out in pain and dropped his sword. Arya picked it up and pointed it at Joffrey.

"Arya!" Jasper called out, worried that she was about to do something stupid "drop the sword."

But the little Stark paid no attention to him and sliced Joffrey lightly across the cheek. "There!" She yelled at him, walking over to the river, "now don't threaten Jasper again!" She hurled the sword into the river.

Joffrey whimpered and ran away, Sansa followed him as fast as she could, calling out, "oh my prince my poor poor prince how are you my prince?"

Jasper clambered to his feet, stormed over to Arya and seized her by the front of her dress and pulled her in so her face was inches from his "you fool", he said darkly, "you just made a horrible mistake." He released her and turned to Mycah. "You, did Joffrey hear your name?" The boy shook his head, and so Jasper reached into a pouch and pulled out a silver stag, one of many he kept on him. "Take this and go home, now!" The boy nodded and rushed off. He turned back to the group. "We need to return to the castle now", he said to them, "and you", he turned to Arya, who looked slightly scared now, for she recognised what she had done, "you go straight to your father, you understand, you don't leave his side, not for a moment, I must go to mine and try and keep things calm."

They all nodded and rushed off.

Back at the castle, things were worse than Jasper feared, there was already tell of how Arya had ambushed the prince and beat him bloody and bruised until he could barely make it back to camp. Jasper gritted his teeth and, upon hearing that the Lannisters were searching for Arya, and that there were more of them than Stark or Baratheon men, Jasper told Arya to hide in the forest for as long as she could whilst he tried to defuse things. "But do not stray far", he warned her, "go too far and the Lannisters might find you."

He found his father present in the main hall of castle Darry, with his mother, most of the Kingsguard, bar his uncle Jaime and Ser Barristan as well as Lord Stark, Lady Sansa and Joffrey were not present. "Ah Jasper", his father said, "have you heard what little Arya Stark has done to your brother?"

"I have heard the lies", Jasper replied, "and I know the truth, what Joffrey says is a lie, I was there at the time."

His mother looked surprised, "you were there and did nothing to stop the ambush."

"There was no ambush", Jasper said through gritted teeth, just as Stannis would have, "I was giving Arya some sword training, Joffrey came and offered to help, so I let him and then, when my back was turned he attacked me." He pointed to the cut in his breeches and the cut beneath that had already mostly scabbed over. "Arya told him not to do it again, cut his cheek and threw his sword in the river, I was on the ground, I could not stop it."

"On the ground", his father demanded, "from a small cut like that?"

"No I stumbled backwards and tripped", Jasper replied, "the fact is, Arya is innocent. Do not harm her for this."

"There Robert", Lord Stark said in relief, "call off this manhunt for my daughter, let her be found with dignity."

"Whatever the circumstances, that little animal hurt your son", Jasper's mother said to his father, in a tone that made Jasper sigh, for he was certain his father would give in. "She must be found and brought here to explain it."

His father nodded after a much shorter time than Jasper would have guessed. "Bring her here Ned, I want this issue sorted. Jasper", Jasper looked up, "go and help find the girl." Jasper nodded and turned to leave, but then a Baratheon man burst through the door.

"Your grace, Lord Stark", he panted, "the lady Arya is in the river". Jasper barrelled out of the great hall and sprinted for the river.

Sure enough when he was there, he looked over a cliff with about a four foot drop, and saw Arya, holding desperately on to a hanging branch from the tree. Beric ran up beside him and said, 2that river is flowing fast, it is a wonder she has not been swept away."

Jasper nodded and then turned around, seeing Lord Stark approaching he said to Beric, "make sure Lord Stark does not jump in after her, with that amount of clothing on, he'll drown." Beric nodded and raced off toward Lord Stark, at that point Devan arrived next to him. "Devan, knife", Devan nodded and passed Jasper his battle knife, which he rarely used anyway, due to his having two swords, and he passed his sword belt to Devan, before stripping his boots off. By now a large crowd had gathered, several were trying to reach Arya but she was too far away, it was as they were lowering spears to reach her, that the hanging branch snapped and Arya fell, screaming, into the river. Jasper saw Beric seize Lord Stark to prevent him jumping in and rushed moved back slightly from the edge of the small cliff. "Devan, do not lose those!" He slipped the knife into his belt and sprinted up to the edge of the cliff. "MOVE!" He yelled and the men at the edge of the cliff dived aside to make room for him. He vaguely heard his mother call for him to stop, and his father too, before he dived into the river.

The water was not too cold, but still not pleasant to drop into at high speed. Jasper surfaced and, after wiping his eyes clear, kicked after Arya, who he could see was struggling to stay afloat. He ignored all the calls from the bank as he swam up to Arya, thanking the Seven for all the swimming he had had to do under Stannis' tutelage, at Dragonstone, in the Blakwater Rush and, when he had visited Highgarden, in the Mander. He was able to catch up to Arya and he pulled her kicking and flailing form against his own body, turning onto his back so that they could both breathe. He noticed that most of the royal party was rushing down the bank of the river to follow them, including several on horseback, Lord Stark leading those on foot at high speed. But the bank was getting higher as the river flowed further downstream. Turning his head, he tried to find something to grab on to, and saw an upcoming tree, whose roots were protruding from the river bank. He raised his left hand, his right busy trying to hold Arya up, and locked it around one of the roots with his elbow joint. He roared in pain as a pointy bit of root stabbed into his arm, even more loudly after he instinctively pulled away and the spike tore a cut into his forearm several inches long. But it also made him lose his grip and he and Arya were forced downstream again, far faster than anyone on the bank could keep up. Gritting his teeth against the pain in his arm and thigh, and spluttering out a mouthful of water, not knowing who had shat in it, Jasper decided to just hold Arya close and wait for the river to slow down. He pulled her on to his front, so that she was closer to the surface, where she could finally calm down and stop kicking wildly, and did everything he could to keep them both above the water and able to breathe.

It felt like forever, before the speed of the river slowed sufficiently enough for Jasper to force his exhausted limbs into taking them to the nearest bank, and he could no longer remember whether it was the one they had been on before or the opposite one, but he no longer cared, he wanted to get out of the cold water. As soon as his knees hit the bed of the river, Jasper shoved Arya into the shallow water and they crawled out of the river. Jasper spluttered and a cascade of river water fell from his open mouth as Arya did something similar. It took them both a while to recover their breaths and when they did, it was Arya who spoke first.

"Thank you Jasper, thank you."

"No problem you fool", he said, shivering now, from the extended amount of time in the cold water. He looked over at Arya and saw that she was doing the same. He quickly found some wood and bracken and, using skills he had learned in the Rainwood and under Stannis, he built a small fire and pulled Arya close, sharing their body heat as well as the warmth of the fire to prevent them getting a chill. Jasper knew how devastating chills could be, for one of his best friends, Lord Bryce Caron, was the one surviving legitimate child of Lord Bryen Caron, who had died along with his wife and other children at Nightsong, leaving only Bryce and his bastard brother Rolland Storm to carry on the Caron line. When the fire was up, it gave jasper time to examine his arm and his hip, which had lost the scabbing and was bleeding again. He winced as he touched the cuts but tore lengths of fabric from his tunic to bind his arm and thigh.

Whilst he was doing this, Arya had been catching her breath and rubbing her arms. "Rub your chest", Jasper said off handedly.

"What?" She replied, still shivering slightly, but not as much as she had been before.

"Your arms will warm up by themselves, you should rub your chest instead". Arya nodded and slipped her hands through the sleeves of her dress, like a child would do when they were pretending to have no arms, and started rubbing her chest. After a moment, Jasper had to ask. "You know, I said to go and wait in the forest, but keep the castle in sight", Arya looked at him. "Why in the seven hells did you decide that was a good time to go for a swim?"

"I didn't", Arya said emphatically. "I had to go further into the forest because someone was coming, so I ended up beside the river again. But then someone pushed me in."


	5. The Sworn Shield

Beric kicked his horse into action far beyond what most others had been willing to search that day, with only his master's squire Devan, remaining with him. The King had offered a thousand gold dragons to anyone who found his son, but Beric had already outlasted all those who had been swayed by money, with only himself, Devan, Lord Stark, his men and some Baratheon knights remaining with the search. Ser Arys Oakheart of the Kingsguard had wanted to continue, but they had been sent to nearby castles down the river to continue request help in the search. Other riders and ravens had been dispatched to Saltpans, where the Trident met the Narrow Sea, just in case they floated all the way down there. But Beric knew that if the two of them were found down there they would be corpses, the river was too cold and the distance too great for them to survive all the way down there. As for the other searchers, they were busy trying to find traces of Jasper and Lady Arya in the water, or by any low bank that they came across, which Beric knew was futile. He was instead riding hard, looking for the place that the water began to slow down, where it would be possible for a fifteen year old boy carrying a twelve year old girl to get out of the water. This incident reminded Beric sharply of when he had been assigned as Jasper's sworn shield in the first place. Jasper had been missing in the Rainwood in the Stormlands for two weeks, two weeks in which ten thousand gold dragons were offered to those who found him, drawing hedge knights and sellswords from across the kingdoms to the Rainwood. Thankfully, it had been the Onion Knight who had found him, who, whilst taking the reward from the king, was more mindful that it was his duty that required him to return the prince to the King. Devan had then been promised to be the boy's squire when he became old enough to start competing in tourneys and Robert had held a tournament in celebration. That had been Beric's third tourney, and he remembered distinctly that the Prick Prince Joffrey had not looked happy at all the attention that Jasper was getting. Beric was able to showcase his abilities in that tourney to their finest. He unhorsed Lord Crakehall, Donnel Swann, Sandor Clegane, Gregor Clegane, five members of the Kingsguard and Lord Yohn Royce before being defeated by Ser Jaime in the final tilt. Then in the Melee, he had been the last man standing of over fifty competitors. As a reward, he got thirty thousand gold dragons and was named the young prince's sworn shield.

Beric smiled at the memory, for at first the Queen had been very outspoken in a bastard being named the sworn shield of her son, but the relationship between Jasper and the elder members of his family had not been so strained then. But it was when Jasper pleaded for Beric to be his shield that the king gave his consent. And whatever the queen wanted, her power came from her marriage, she could not overrule her husband, and so Beric got the position. At first Jasper had been a charge of his, to look after and help, but within a year they had become friends. Jasper would defend Beric's bastard status and Beric would defend Jasper from hidden blades.

"Ser Beric", Beric looked over at Devan, who looked decidedly nervous, as he should, his mentor, master and lord was missing, and Beric knew just how much the nine year old looked up to Jasper. Indeed, it was clearly the boy's desire to one day be knighted by the prince and to become a great knight. Beric raised his eyebrows at the boy. "What if Prince Jasper is dead?"

"Banish such thoughts Devan", Beric replied, moving his horse closer to the squire's. "I will not believe that until I see his corpse, will you?" Devan swiftly shook his head. "Good", Beric smiled encouragingly before looking up into the sky to try and determine the time. When he was a squire himself, Beric had had to learn how to judge things like this, for the knight he squired for was a hedge knight, who often camped in woods. "I say we have about an hour before total darkness engulfs us", he told the squire. "Let's find the bank of the river again and then set up the tent." Devan nodded and they trotted the horses up to the nearest bank, tied them up to a tree and put their packs against trees to serve as pillows, and their cloaks for warmth.

"Shall I take first watch ser Beric?" Devan asked.

Beric nodded, "very well Devan, wake me when you get tired and I'll take over." Devan nodded and settled down against a tree, Jasper's sword in his hands as Beric setted against another tree to get some sleep. But sleep had never come easily for Beric, and so he stayed up, thinking things over. After Jasper had dived into the river, Beric had heard a laugh and turning, he saw Joffrey clutching his sides and laughing harder than Beric had even seen him laugh. Beric did however notice that Lord Stark had also seen it, and the look on the Warden of the North's face had not been pleasant. Beric worried that it would mean that Lord Stark would break the betrothal with Joffrey, and if that happened, that made Jasper the next in line to be betrothed, which was the very last thing Jasper wanted. He had no desires for a wife, even his feelings for Raeven Wendwater did not stretch that far, true he had bedded the girl a couple of times, but he never committed to it. He was young, and he recognised it, he wanted to be out enjoying the world and what he could see in it, or as much as he could, unfortunately the boy's ambitions were regularly being curbed by his parents, particularly his mother, who wanted him to remain close in King's Landing, which Beric just saw as hypocritical, since they never paid him much attention when he was there.

However, just as he was about to fall asleep, a grey beast fly past, both Beric and Devan drew their weapons, but then Beric recognised it. It was Nymeria, Arya's direwolf; it must have been trying to find her. "Quick Devan!" He said with urgency, "follow the wolf."

They quickly gathered up their few things, mounted the horses and followed the wolf, discovering that Jasper and Arya were only at the next riverbeach. The wolf was sat down and watching them and Beric saw the position that they were in, Arya was curled up, still in a horrendously dirty dress, with her back against Jasper's torso, with Jasper's arm draped over her side. To those who did not know the prince, they might think they were lovers, but Beric knew the reason was to share heat in the night so as to not catch a chill. Beric saw a torn piece of cloth wrapped around Jasper's left forearm like a bandage and he presumed that the tree that he had caught hold of must have cut into it.

But more important than that, they had been found and Beric, in a style that Jasper himself would be proud of, picked up a nearby stick and poked the two of them until they awoke. Jasper's eyes opened slowly at first, and then snapped awake when he felt the poke before his hand flew to the knife at his belt. "Beric!" He exclaimed upon catching sight of the poker, scrambling to his feet and embracing Beric tightly. Beric returned the grip, glad to see his friend was still in high spirits, even if he was not in the best physical condition, for Beric could see he had not eaten much these past few days, not enough to fill the number of rabbit skins surrounding them and he suspected he had given most of the food to Arya, to keep her spirits and strength up. The girl in question was rising to her feet and rubbing her grimy face with equally filthy hands. "Come Arya", Jasper said, hugging her tightly, "we're going back."

When they got back to Castle Darry, the whole party had to wait for a week for the return of all those who had been to look for the prince, and they found that several tales of daring chivalry had already been springing up for Jasper's dive to save Arya.

"Honestly", Jasper said, "they are marvelling at that and here I am wondering why no one dived in after me." Beric knew he spoke in jest, Jasper was never one to fake pout effectively, but it further nailed home the fact that he was not a well loved child, even by his parents. One of his first nights he had been named as the sworn shield of the prince, he had been outside his room and had heard the prince have a nightmare. Since they didn't know each other well, Beric did not get involved, but the prince did whimper out for help, but from his guardian and uncle Stannis, rather than King Robert or the Queen.

However, Jasper's feeling of relief was soon quashed. Beric escorted the two he had rescued to the great hall, where the King and Queen were waiting, Lord Stark having come back a day before was also present. Beric dropped to one knee. "Your Grace, I present your son Jasper Baratheon, and the girl he saved Arya Stark."

"Very good ser Beric", King Robert said, waving his hand and Beric, bowing once more after he stood, moved to the side. The king then beckoned the two forwards. "So, my son chose to endanger himself greatly to save another then", he commented. Uncharacteristically, Jasper did not look up, but kept his gaze fixed to the floor. "As a true noble should have done", he continued, which did make Jasper look up, "your brother would never have considered it."

"With all respect father, Joffrey never swam the width of the Blackwater Rush, or spent time on Dragonstone where swimming is essential." Jasper did not look up as he said this.

"Even so, the look on his face when you jumped in", Beric watched, and was not surprised that Jasper looked up then, he wanted to see what his father thought and he saw the grimace that King Robert had, Jasper lowered his head again. Beric let a small smile creep on to his lips and was sure that Jasper was also smiling. "Oh look at me boy", King Robert said loudly, and Jasper rose to his feet. "Do you know what Joffrey did boy?"

"No father", Jasper replied, smiling a little, "Arya's life meant far more to me than my brother's opinion about me." Robert laughed out loud, Beric's slight smile widened, but the queen was not smiling, she scowled instead.

"You should respect your brother more Jasper."

"I am sure mother", Jasper replied, "I will show him love when you show love to Tyrion." Beric could not hold back his snort of laughter, the idea of the queen showing affection to her youngest brother was ludicrous.

"Silence ser!" The Queen shouted and Beric held up a hand for forgiveness and silenced his laughter.

"Your brother", Robert spoke over his wife, for which Beric was thankful, for the queen could harm her son and she was one of the few people that Beric could not stop doing so. "He laughed when you leapt in to save Arya and spoke loudly about how the Stark girl would drown and his brother would die acting the hero. However, it was clear the gods were in your favour, because the river ran fast and you survived." Jasper looked up at his father with a raised eyebrow, the girl Arya also looked confused. "It is for that reason, that Ned and I have decided that the betrothal between Joffrey and Sansa is at an end, it will be replaced by your betrothal to Ned's second daughter Arya."

Beric was glad that he had found Arya, for she had been very loud in their conversations on the way back, and since he had known Jasper for a long time, he also knew what he could be like. So he was the sole person in the room who had the forethought to cover his ears. He saw everyone look at him confused and then jump as, even through his gloved hands, he still heard Jasper and Arya yell, at the top of their voices, "WHAT!"


	6. Eddard II

The ride from Castle Darry to the capital had not been easy for Ned. The main reason for this was that his two daughters both thought they had the worst deal of the pair. Sansa tried to demand he reinstate her betrothal to Joffrey, whilst Arya encouraged him to send her to Jasper so that she would not have to, but he was adamant that this situation would not change. He may not care much for southern politics but he understood marriage, and of the possible pairings that could come from houses Baratheon and Stark, Arya and Jasper was by far the best. The only two other conceivable possibilities were Sansa to Jasper or his son Robb and the princess Myrcella, but Jasper had always said, whenever he visited Winterfell that he had no desire for a typical wife and, combined with what Robert had told him back at Winterfell, they would not go well together, particularly when he considered that Sansa still regarded Jasper as a brute who attacked her beloved prince for no reason. As for the union of the Princess to Robb, the queen had made it perfectly clear that she would not send her daughter anywhere and Robert was not willing to argue with her on that, from these points it was quite clear that Arya and Jasper were the best two to be joined. The gods had their say when the two of them survived the fast flowing Trident, so he had made the arrangements, and now all those affected would have to deal with it, as he would. Ned knew that Arya was happily sulking, and he highly suspected that Jasper was doing the same, based on the few sights of him that he caught being a prince who was far more subdued than before. He hoped that Arya and him grew to have the love he had with his beloved wife. In order to help them bond, Ned had asked Jasper, in private, to tutor Arya in swordplay, hoping that they would bond there. Jasper had muttered about thinking it over before he rode ahead to speak with his brother Tommen in the wheelhouse. Whilst he was not too happy that Arya would be fighting, he wanted her watched over, and having heard from Ser Beric Storm about his skills, he was happy that Jasper would be the perfect guard for her. The other reason for wanting Jasper was that Jasper, Arya and he were the only people who knew Arya's side of the story at the Trident, that she had been pushed into the river. Ned had wanted to take the matter up with the king, but Jasper told him that it would get him no-where without proof or suspects, so he dropped the matter for now, but swore to have a close eye kept on Arya. Nymeria in particular seemed almost completely unwilling to part from her mistress, even sleeping in the same room as her, Ned knew that kind of behaviour would have to end eventually, but not yet, for Arya herself was still insecure about it.

However, he had not even had time to recover from the long journey when they arrived at the capital before a small council meeting had been called and Ned had to rush along to it not bothering to change his clothing. As he was just about to enter the room, he heard Jasper behind the door. "Uncle Renly", it was definitely a greeting and, sure enough, when he opened the door, Ned saw the two Baratheons embracing tightly. "Where is Stannis?" Jasper asked, and Ned noticed that Robert's eldest brother was indeed absent, "I was hoping to see him before I settled in."

"My brother has taken a leave of absence to visit his family on Dragonstone", Renly replied, "he did not say when he would return." Jasper looked downhearted at that, but Renly spoke up, "but I hear your trip was… eventful, first you break the prince's nose and then you save the Stark girl."

"Arya", Jasper corrected him with a small smile, "her name is Arya, and I am curious", Jasper turned to a soft skinned man, whose hands were inside his sleeves, that Ned judged must be the Master of Whisperers, Varys, "how swiftly after I broke my brother's nose had you heard about it Lord Varys?"

"As much time as was needed", he replied enigmatically.

Jasper gave a short laugh and turned, catching sight of Ned, who had been leaning against a pillar as the conversation played out. "Lord Stark", he gave a slight bow of respect, "I will leave you to your council meeting then."

However, as Jasper made to leave, Varys spoke up. 2Actually, my prince, Lord Stannis left this behind", he held up a scroll and continued, "he has named you to serve as acting Master of Ships whilst he is absent."

Jasper looked confused, "can he do that? It is the King or the Hand that names council members."

"Well, given how little the King attends these meetings, we can ask Lord Stark", said the final member of the table, who, by process of elimination, must be Petyr Baelish.

"I would welcome your input Jasper", Ned said, so Jasper nodded and took Stannis' seat.

"What about Ser Barristan?" Jasper asked the table, "is there any new of him?"

"Ser Barristan is still in Essos my prince", Varys replied, "he should not be too long, there are plenty of what he is looking for in Essos."

Ned raised an eyebrow, "what is Ser Barristan looking for?"

"A matter for the king only my lord Hand." Ned nodded and did not pursue the topic further.

Ned gave and received greetings from those present and then took his seat after pinning the badge of the hand on himself. "What matters are there then?"

"The King has instructed us to stage a tournament to celebrate your appointment as Hand of the King", Lord Varys said and passed Ned a scroll, who broke the seal and opened it.

Jasper asked tentatively, "how much this time?"

Ned's eyes widened slightly, "40,000 gold dragons to the champion, 20,000 to the runner up, 20,000 to the winner of the melee and 10,000 to the winning archer."

"Can the treasury bear such an expense?" Grand Maester Pycelle asked.

"I'll have to borrow it", Baelish replied, "the Lannisters will accommodate I expect, we already owe Lord Tywin 3 million gold dragons, what's another 90,000".

Ned could not have heard that properly, "are you saying the crown in 3 million in debt?!" He asked incredulous.

"No, it is 6 million in debt, 3 million to Lord Tywin and the other three million to the Iron Bank of Braavos, Mace Tyrell, Tyroshi Cartels and the Faith", Lord Baelish replied with a smile.

Ned was staggered, he had been here at the defeat of the Targaryens, and the Mad King, whilst mad had left the coffers overflowing. "How could this happen?"

It was Jasper who replied this time, who was drumming his fingers on the table in apparent boredom. "My father does seem determined to leave as much debt as possible for my brother to clear up before he dies."

"Surely not, I refuse to believe that Jon Arryn would let Robert bankrupt the realm, or your mentor Stannis", he reminded the boy.

"Uncle Stannis tries", Jasper replied vehemently, "but if he were to suggest something that would be for the good of the realm then Robert would do the opposite just to spite him!" Ned, remembering what Robert had said in the Eyrie about his brothers, was not at all surprised by that.

"I will speak to Robert', he said finally, "this is an extravagance we cannot afford."

"A good idea", Jasper replied getting to his feet. All those present looked at him, "forgive me, my lords, but I had not planned to be here long in the first place and my things are not yet settled, I will be present at the next meeting, should someone tell me when it will take place."

"Yes", Renly replied, "I think it would be best for Jasper to be settled and Lord Stark to be comfortable before we discuss affairs of state."

The others nodded and got to their feet to leave the room. Leaving Ned alone with his thoughts. He contemplated how Robb, Bran, Rickon and his wife were doing at Winterfell. With Bran in his comatose state, he wondered if there had been any change. Reassuring himself that he would have heard if there was to be a change, he set off to establish his household in the Tower of the Hand.

After assigning posts to his guards and rooms for everyone, Ned decided to go and see his daughters, alone and independently, he had not had a proper talk alone since the new betrothal agreement had been made and it was high time he did so. Since Arya's room was closest, he went to her first. He knocked on the door and, after a pause without a reply, he turned the handle and entered. He saw his youngest daughter sitting at the edge of her bed, one hand stroking Nymeria, who was sitting beside her, and her legs kicking backwards and forwards. "Arya", he said, "how do you like your room?"

"Why not just send me to Jasper's room", she replied coldly, "if I am to be his wife and have his children, I might as well start sleeping there."

Ned sighed, this whole issue of joining Stark and Baratheon was becoming more trouble than it was worth. "Listen sweetheart", he said, sitting down next to her and wrapping his arm around her shoulder, "it was going to happen one day or another", he said softly, which was true, even his sister Lyanna was never able to get away from an arranged marriage.

"But why?" Arya asked, "why do I have to, I don't want to."

"I know you don't want to", he said soothingly, not wanting to have to deal with a tantrum on his first night in a new place, on top of a mountain of debt and a tournament to arrange, "but I ask you, would you rather marry someone who would force you to be a lady like Sansa or someone who would let you train, and fight, and ride as you want to?"

"I would rather not marry at all."

"Well we can't always have what we wish in life Arya."

"Why not?"

Ned laughed, "people have spent hundreds of years trying to answer that question and there is still no answer, we just can't."

"Why not let Sansa marry Jasper", Arya complained, "she would love it, it would be her dream."

"Not after losing out on the future king", he said, pulling her close to him and rubbing her arm softly. "Now look, we are in a dangerous place Arya, a very dangerous place. You know our words."

"Winter is coming."

"Yes", Ned replied, nodding to her and giving her another squeeze. "You have grown up in a long summer, you have yet to know anything else, but now winter is truly coming, and when the snows come to the south disunity must be avoided, disunity amongst us, the Starks, and amongst our allies, you understand."

"But he-" Arya began.

"Walked straight up to the king and queen and pleaded your innocence against the word of his own brother, and no matter how much brothers hate each other, there is a certain amount of respect there", Ned sighed, thinking of what Jasper had said about Stannis and Robert, thinking that he may not have been being entirely truthful when he said that. "And, do you think Jasper would treat you badly when you are married?"

Arya only shook her head. "Given who you are and what you like Arya", Ned said, getting to his feet, kissing her on the top of her head affectionately "Jasper Baratheon may be the best suited to being your husband", again Arya nodded, this time apparently grudgingly. Ned planted another kiss on her head before turning to leave, but then there was a knock at the door.

"Come in", Arya called out before Ned could. "Jasper!" She said in surprise as the prince they had just been talking about entered the room.

"Arya", he said in greeting, "Lord Stark, I did not expect to find you here."

"Don't let me keep you", Ned said and made for the door, but Jasper held out a hand stopping him.

"I also wanted to speak to you about the same topic", he said, and so Ned nodded, wondering if this was about "the betrothal, hoping that the prince was not about to break it after the work he had put in thus far. I have considered what you have said, and what happened at the Trident", he said, "Arya showed real potential, and with Stannis gone my lessons are on temporary hold, so I want to continue what I started at Ruby Ford and teach Arya in swordplay." Ned caught Arya's face light up, "with your permission of course", Jasper added.

"I think it is a good idea", Ned said, glad that the two had a chance to bond, also Jasper could then keep an eye on her in case the assassin struck again "you have my permission."

Arya hugged his waist tightly and Jasper chuckled. "I will check what times I have available", Jasper said, "if I am to sit on the council whilst Stannis is gone then it will not be as much as I had thought, but I will tell you when I know". Ned nodded and Jasper made for the door, "until then Arya."

"Thank you thank you thank you", Arya said repeatedly after Jasper had left the room.

Ned chuckled, "now finish getting unpacked Arya", he said, "I need to go and speak with your sister." Arya nodded and, as Ned left, he saw her get along with her unpacking without complaint.

He quietly shut her door and made his way up to Sansa's room. He knocked and, just like with Arya, entered when the occupant of the room said so. Sansa was in discussion with Jeyne Poole, her friend, and both looked over at him when he entered. "Jeyne, I require a word with my daughter, in private", she nodded and left the room. Sansa looked dejected now that her friend had gone. "Are you still angry at me?" He asked. Sansa did not say it, for she was taught to be obedient, but he could see it in her eyes, so he sighed, "Sansa, Joffrey would have been a bad husband to you", but before he could continue, Sansa interrupted.

"How can you say that, he was gallant and perfect to me whist Arya was off being a little animal, and now she is promised to that brute Jasper. They attacked my Joffrey together I am sure of it, they hated him and were jealous of him and-" Ned put a finger to his daughter's lips to stop her from ranting on.

"There are better people out there, better men for you, I will not have you marrying someone who laughed as your sister's life was threatened", he told her, with a tone of finality in his voice. He sighed and rubbed his face wearily, things were so much easier back in Winterfell, when Sansa only had dreams and stories of the south, and now she saw him ruining those stories for her. He could not think of much to say, but there was one thing that had to be said. "My sweet, there will likely be a tournament shortly, to celebrate my appointment to this office", he fingered the badge of the hand on his front. "At that tournament you will see many knights and Lords present who will be good matches for you, you will see." Ned kissed his daughter on the top of the head and left the room.

How had Jon done it for so many years, he was failing and it wasn't even supper time?


	7. Sansa

Sansa could not wait, after everything that had happened to ruin her life, her beloved's hand being taken away, Arya getting promised to the prince and that business at Castle Darry, she was going to watch the tourney that her father had told her about, where there would be jousts and glory to match the songs she had heard when she was younger. Her father had said that he might find a worthy husband for her amongst the competitors and hoped that there would be someone who could hold the smallest of candles to the perfect prince. It was for that reason that Sansa could barely stay still as she took a front row seat and watched the knights who would be competing riding past, the tournament had not yet started, but most of the knights were still riding to the enjoyment of all present, including Sansa and her friend Jeyne. She spotted Jason Mallister, Beric Dondarrion, a huge man, as big as a mountain who was called Gregor Clegane. Six of the Kingsguard were present in their white armour, apart from ser Jaime who wore gold. Apparently Barristan Selmy was not in the capital, but on a quest for the king far away, or so they were told, and so was not competing.

Sansa looked at the strange and wondrous sigils, of which there were more than she ever knew existed. She saw a field of nightingales, bales of wheat, apples, backgrounds of red, gold, purple and white, borders of even greater varieties. Even the most basic of sigils had a certain elegance to them, but her eyes were drawn to those with the most beautiful designs, ser Balon Swann's sigil of two opposing swans caught her eye as he rode past, waving to the crowd, as did Lord Yohn Royce and his sons Andar and Robar.

It was as she was observing them that the bugles rang out and all those who were in the crowd took their seats and the competitors rode off the lists. As Jeyne Poole sat down on her right, Arya sat down on her left with her father on her left. She watched as the Royal Family sat in the royal box, glad that the brute Jasper, who was nothing like the golden Joffrey and more like his fat father, was not present. "May all those competing ride out." Sansa finally got to see all those who would compete at once as they all rode out into the lists. They were in two lines, one on their side of the lists and one on the other. About half the knights were in full armour with the other half exposing their heads to the crowds. Sansa held her breath as she looked over all of the knights, from the young ser Hugh to the monstrous Gregor Clegane. "For the first tilt", the crier called out, "will Ser Andar Royce and Ser Balon Swann remain, the rest, to the sides." She saw the beautiful swans and the orange of Royce remain behind as all other competitors spurred their horses out and, after a bow to the royal family, those two went to their ends of the lists. Her heart beat faster and faster as the two knights charged at each other, their horses kicking up the sand and dirt of the lists before Ser Balon knocked Ser Andar off his horse. Sansa clapped just as a refined lady should, Arya, who seemed interested in watching the tourney and yet impatient for it continue, clapped four times before letting her hands rest. The crier called out the next competitors, a Horas Redwyne and Ser Beric Storm, Sansa noticed Arya look up eagerly as she recognised the straight brown hair and sharp features of the second prince's sworn shield approach. Sansa did not think much of the man, he could not be a true knight if he was the way his master was and so she was sure the Redwyne would defeat this untrue ser. However she was disappointed as Beric Storm sent Horas Redwyne to the ground on his first pass at the lists, eliciting a cheer from both the crowds and Arya, who ignored Septa Mordane's chastisement at her childlike behaviour that was unfit for a lady. It seemed the knight waved at Arya who waved back at him eagerly before he rode off again, this time to face the most recently knighted of all the competitors, Ser Hugh of the Vale, unseating him with little trouble on his first pass. Ser Beric's last joust was against the huge Gregor Clegane, a monster of a man who looked ready to kill. Ser Beric ducked under the huge man's lance and shattered his own against the Mountain's helmet, as the Mountain was struggling to his feet, Beric bowed to the royals and left. Next up to ride, was Ser Theo Frey and Jaime Lannister and, as expected, Ser Jaime had no trouble in defeating the Frey knight. Jaime Lannister then won two more tilts in a row, against Bryce Caron, the lord who bore the Nightingales and Balon Swann, who had won earlier.

Chivalrous knight after chivalrous knight rode past her that day, and still Arya seemed uninterested except when Ser Beric Storm rode, especially when he unseated the Mountain to massive applause from the crowd. But then she heard the crier call out a dreaded name. "Prince Jasper Baratheon and Lord Renly Baratheon, to the lists." She gasped and Arya looked on eagerly as Jasper rode out to the centre of the lists, resplendent in black armour, he gave a lazy bow compared to the long bow that Renly gave, but both appeared to be crowd favourites.

"100 gold dragons on the prince", a man behind them called out and she turned to see a man in a green cloak, with short hair and sharp eyes, with a very strange smile affixed to his face.

"I'll take that", called out another man, "Lord Renly has more experience."

"Why did you bet on Jasper?"Arya asked.

"Last time we had a tournament, the prince unseated the Mountain, the Hound, and a half dozen other knights, believe me, he can win this."

"Is that so lord Baelish?" Her father asked and he looked on with more interest. It seemed the man her father called lord Baelish knew what he was saying, on the first tilt, the brute Jasper sent his uncle Renly flying off the back of his horse and the crowd went wild for him, many of them on their feet, Sansa was horrified to see that many of them were noble ladies, who should not behave in that manner. Loud applause drew her gaze to the royal box where all were cheering, except her beloved, who saw what a brute Jasper was, but none louder than the King himself. Jasper bowed at the waist to his family before kicking his horse down the lists to his tent. Nymeria, who was at Arya's feet was just as wild as her mistress, only the chain tying her close to Arya preventing her from running up to the prince. Meanwhile, Lady was perfectly refined, sitting quietly and patiently at her ankles and, apart from a few fearful looks, no-one seemed to mind her. Even though he was in no way comparable to his brother Joffrey, Sansa could not help but deny that Jasper was a skilled and valiant fighter, he went on to unhorse three knights of the Kingsguard, Ser Meryn, Ser Boros and Ser Mandon on the first tilt before removing Lord Yohn Royce from the tourney, helping the aging lord up to his feet afterwards. This earned Jasper a place in the semi finals and he bowed to his family before returning to his tent.

Then out came the most handsome man Sansa had ever seen, in shimmering silver armour and riding a pure white horse was Ser Loras Tyrell, the Knight of the Flowers, who gave out flowers to the ladies. Sansa blushed when he approached her and offered her a rose, "your beauty is unmatched my lady", he said in a voice of pure silk, "but this flower may hold the smallest of candles to it."

"Thank you ser Loras", Sansa said breathlessly as she took and smelled the flower. Loras rode off to the end of the lists. Smash, smash, smash, smash, in quick succession, the great Ser Loras removed two more Kingsguard, Ser Preston and Ser Arys from the tourney before also unseating Lothor Brune, Ser Robar Royce and finally Ser Jaime Lannister without a scratch on his immaculate armour. Sansa sat back, still repeatedly inhaling the luscious scents from ser Loras' rose as the day wore on.

However, Robert ended the day before the tournament, stating that the Melee, the Archery and the last three jousts would take place the next day. Those jousts would be, Ser Loras Tyrell would ride against Ser Beric Storm and then Jasper would ride against Sandor Clegane and then the winners would ride for the final.

And so, Sansa made her way back to the Red Keep for the night, eagerly awaiting the next day, when the gallant Ser Loras would win the tourney, she wondered whether her father would contemplate her marrying him, for he was almost as pure and noble as the prince.

Everything was going well for Sansa's dream. She got up, ate a lovely breakfast with her family, with even Arya being civil and uncomplaining about going to the tournament again, although on the way they did argue about who would win the tournament, for Arya seemed to fervently believe that Jasper would win, even though it was clear he was no match for Ser Loras. Nymeria and Lady also seemed to be arguing about the same issue, but much more playfully. Their father decided to sit between them since they would not stop arguing all the way there.

They took their seats, Sansa still wearing the rose she had received the previous day, and watched as the King drew a straw to see which joust would be first. It was Jasper and Sandor Clegane. The two of them passed each other twice without hitting the other, but on the final pass, Jasper caught the Hound's shield and claimed the victory, graciously helping the Hound up before celebrating his victory himself. However, that match was not all that interesting, with Sansa sure that Jasper would win, for he seemed more determined than the Hound. The next match was what she was after, and she watched with glee as Ser Beric was sent flying by Ser Loras, meaning that there was to be a showdown between Loras and Jasper, and therefore between herself and Arya. Both went and bowed to the King before they rode to the edge of the lists. She locked eyes with Arya, who was glaring at her in a manner that suggested she was still certain that Jasper would win, despite the silver armour of Ser Loras clearly being better than the armour of Jasper, all in black as it was. They both snapped their gazes back to the lists when the bugle sounded, Sansa confident in victory over her sister. However, she was disappointed, for Loras' shield was struck by Jasper, and her perfect knight fell off the side of his horse, desperately unhooking his foot from the stirrup so that he was not dragged along the ground. However, Arya was also disappointed, for Loras' lance had shattered upon Jasper's shield and the prince had waved his arms around to steady himself but in the end he rolled backwards of the rear end of his horse, landing face first on the ground. The squires of both knights came rushing over to help them to their feet.

There was silence as people tried to work out what should happen. Normally in a draw both competitors would remain in the tourney, such as yesterday when Lord Bryce Caron and Lord Jason Mallister drew in their tilt, however this was the final, there was no other competitor to face them. Many were looking to the king, who seemed unsure of how to proceed himself. A gasp of surprise took everyone's attention back to the lists. Jasper had sent his squire running back to the tent, and he returned a few moments later with Jasper's sword belt. He withdrew his longsword and Sansa was mortified that Jasper was about to attack the unarmed Ser Loras. Jasper however, remained where he was and beckoned Ser Loras come over. There was a cheer when Loras' squire returned with his own sword and he clambered over the lists to face Jasper in front of the king. They both looked at the King, who nodded his approval and the clang of steel on steel rent the air.

Sansa could not deny that both were brilliant swordsmen, but she saw more finesse in Ser Loras than Jasper and was still certain that Ser Loras would prove victorious, just like the songs. She gasped as Ser Loras ducked a blow that came very close to his helmet, but felt a sense of relief when her knight spun and slashed at Jasper's middle, slamming heavily into Jasper's shield before he continued with more strikes against the prince who struggled to block them all. Meanwhile, Loras effortlessly battered aside the weak counterattacks of the prince, who was desperately trying to stop Loras humiliating him in front of everyone.

But then, the unthinkable happened. Jasper ducked a strike from Ser Loras and slammed the edge of his shield into Ser Loras' knee, sending him to his hands and knees. Jasper then knocked Ser Loras' sword out of his hand and Loras, who tried to fight back using only his shield, was done for, and Jasper was able to get behind him and hold him up with his sword to Loras' neck, about to slice it open. There was a silent pause as Sansa prayed for Jasper not to be the brute he could be and not slit Loras' neck. Loras dropped his shield and held up his hands and there was a cheer as Jasper raised his visor and then his arms to the cheering crowd.

Most of the crowd were on their feet clapping and cheering him, as were most of the knights ho had competed in the tournament, for which Sansa was thankful, for it looked like Arya's bouncing up and down and cheering in unladylike manners would be overlooked. Lady and Nymeria were also happy, but reacted in similar ways to their mistresses once again. Jasper made his way to the foot of the royal box and bowed before his family. Strangely, it was the youngest of them that acted, with the Prince Tommen rushing down to his brother and hugging him tightly, Jasper laughed and picked up Tommen in response, hugging him tightly back. He removed his helmet and put it on Tommen's head, laughing with the crowd as it slipped down over the young prince's eyes and nose, almost resting on his shoulders it was so large, and Sansa, seeing the kindness and tenderness in Jasper's face was forced to conclude that she had been wrong about him, he was like a true knight.

Still not as noble and pure as her beloved Joffrey though.


	8. Jasper III

Jasper was sitting in his own private place, thinking, daydreaming, contemplating, all sorts of things. Why had Stannis not come back? When would he come back? What was Arya doing at this moment? How was Tommen doing in his lessons? What would he be getting for his coming of age celebrations later on. He knew it was pointless to truly contemplate any of these issues, Stannis would return when he would, Arya would probably be in her lessons with Septa Mordane, as she always was before her lessons with him, Tommen was probably doing well and he didn't want to know what he was getting for his nameday anyway. Still, when you are at one of the highest points in the Red Keep, there is very little you can do but think. His leg dangled off the edge of the jutting stone that connected to a spire pointing high into the sky. He had found the place when he was seven and kept coming back to it, for no-one knew where it was, apart from Beric and Devan, so they could find him if something urgent came up that he had to deal with. He took a whiff of the sea air and looked out over Blackwater Bay, wondering what lay across the Narrow Sea that he would not be able to see before he left King's Landing for Storm's End, to take up his lordship, whenever that happened.

He then contemplated Arya's swordsmanship. In the few months since she had started, she had made remarkable strides, of course, given that she was twelve years old she did have that advantage over those who started younger, it was easier for her to pick things up. She was much stronger than she was when she arrived in the capital, thanks in large part to the heavy practice swords and padded armour he made her wear, he also made her run in it so that she got faster and faster as well. He highly suspected that her speed would be her ace in any future battle so he wanted to enhance that.

He was drawn out of his thoughts by the sound of heavy footsteps, meaning Beric was coming and therefore that people had noticed that he was absent for his own coming of age. It was past noon and he had not yet been seen. He assumed that people would respect that he wanted to sleep in on his sixteenth nameday and that would give him more time, but apparently that was not the case. "Jasper", Beric said when he arrived. "Your father is demanding that you come down, the feast is to start soon and the entertainment shortly afterwards." Jasper nodded, picked up a stone and threw it off the edge of the keep, he watched it clatter against the roof lower down before bouncing over the edge and out of sight. He then got up and followed Beric down to meet with his family before the feast.

He entered his solar to find not only his family, but Lord Eddard and Arya as well, with her Direwolf beside her, and in a neat dress, which surprised him, although she i not look too pleased with it. "There you are", his father said in an exasperated tone, "we have been looking for you for too long, the guests have arrived and are getting into the great hall now."

"My apologies", Jasper replied quietly, "I needed some time to myself."

"Understandable my son", his mother said smiling at him in a sweet, motherly kind of way, Jasper was glad he got his mother back for his namedays, they were some of the few days he did have her. "But appearances must be kept up." Jasper nodded.

"So, we will enter ahead of you", his father said, "and then you will follow with your bride to be."

_Ah, so that is why he is being so organised about this_, Jasper thought. Normally his father would be half drunk by now and groping many other women besides his wife. But it was a big moment for him because he got to show off that he had hat he wanted, a union with House Stark. "Very well", Jasper said, "just two things, number one, you", he turned to Joffrey, "will be quiet and not boast about any achievements you may or may not have, and you two", he turned to his parents with what he hoped was daggers in his eyes. It must have had some effect because they did look alarmed, "will be civil and respectable throughout the feast, so no groping other women father, and no disdaining looks mother, and both of you, no getting drunk." They both nodded, apparently impressed that he had stood up to them in that way, or maybe because it was his coming of age, they were respecting his wishes.

"Well", Lord Eddard said, breaking the tension, "shall we step outside and leave the prince to get properly dressed?"

"A fine idea lord Stark", his mother replied, "lady Arya will wait outside your room for you to come down to the feast whilst we go ahead and wait for you." Jasper nodded and closed the door behind them as he pulled out his finer clothes and put them on.

When he opened the door he was surprised to find Arya there, he had expected her to run off and leave him to go alone, rather embarrassingly. When he raised his eyebrows in question she said, "you're a friend Jasper, I do not embarrass friends." He nodded in understanding and they walked to the great hall together.

They entered to the applause and cheers of all the guests, of which there were many, too many to count as he walked to the end of the hall and sat down next to Arya in the seat of prominence at the centre of the high table, which was set up far enough away from the others to allow the entertainment to perform in an open space for all to enjoy as they ate and drank. As the feast, which consisted of many of his favourite foods, gammon, pork, beef, mackerel, venison and other dishes besides, continued, many of the assembled Lords, Ladies and other guests came up to him and gave him gifts to celebrate his sixteenth nameday. The first to do so was Renly, who approached smiling and gifted him with a new battle helm, fully equipped with lifting visor and stag horns protruding from the top. It was customary that a Baratheon receive one on his sixteenth nameday, it was a custom that Joffrey had not received and Jasper saw a dark look shot at the helmet. Next came a gift from Stannis, although he himself had still not arrived back at the capital, so he sent his gift on with an apology. But the proud, tall hunting eagle more than made up for it, he had a servant take it to his room in its cage. Lord Bryce Caron gifted him a Cyvasse set, a game they enjoyed playing together, but with pieced made of expertly crafted wood, with nine sets of them, each painted to represent a major house of Westeros. Lord Tyrell had sent a new cloak, similar to his old one but of better quality and comfort. Lord Tywin had sent a tourney pavilion for him, decorated in Baratheon colours, and much larger than his current one. Lord Royce sent him an exquisite mace for battle usage. Ser Balon Swann brought his house's gift of Yew longbow and arrows, he had never been a great archer, but still respected them, and promised to use them well. House Estermont, of whom he was a grandson, sent him a note saying there was a ship waiting for him in the bay for him to take possession of. Jasper was overcome with surprise at that, for he had not expected a ship and had always loved the sea. He made a mental note to thank Lord Estermont next time he saw him. Beric and Devan had come together to get him a new steel shield emblazoned with the Stag of Baratheon so that all could see it was him in battle. It was at that point that two people entered the feast and all looked to see Tyrion Lannister and Barristan Selmy walk straight up to Jasper with gifts ready to give. Jasper was stunned, he had no idea Ser Barristan was back, or that Tyrion had come back from the wall. Tyrion had a large square package being carried by a servant and Ser Barristan, resplendent in his White Armour of the Kingsguard, had a long box under one arm. Ser Barristan had grown a beard and his hair was longer, and it was not a custom for the Lord Commander of the Kingsguard to give gifts to princes. By the looks of it, he had been in rough places this last year of absence, for his armour had the shine of polish that indicated that it was done earlier today, and thoroughly, which meant it was probably filthy. His belt was also worn and he himself looked tired.

Silence followed as they approached and Barristan indicated that Tyrion should give his gift first, so he placed a large heavy package on the table. Jasper opened it to reveal two books, _A history of the great sieges of Westeros_ and _Battles that shaped Westeros, from Aegon's Landing to Robert's Rebellion._ "Thank you Tyrion", Jasper said breathlessly, he always loved books on history, "and thank you for making it back in time."

"I would never miss my nephew's coming of age", Tyrion replied smiling widely and shooting a short look at Joffrey. For he had missed Joffrey's, he had been at Casterly Rock.

"Thank you for coming too, Ser Barristan."

"I made it just in time it seems", Barristan replied and he put his gift, which was longer and thinner on the table as well. "Your father has had me in Essos this past year, I am sorry to say that I missed out on your tournament victories whilst I have been gone."

Jasper smiled, "well no doubt I would have half as many had you still been here Ser Barristan", he replied.

Barristan smiled a comely smile, one he had always reserved for Jasper since their days training, and placed his box on the table. "I have had him searching Essos for that boy", Jasper's father said, making all look at him. "What did you have to do to find it Ser Barristan?"

"A duel against Caggo of the Windblown in Volantis to acquire the metal", Ser Barristan replied to Jasper's father, "and a trip to Qohor to rework it."

Jasper, tired of waiting, flipped open the case. In a mahogany scabbard, lacquered black and shining was a new sword. Jasper took it and held it up, examining it closely. Apart from a gold end to it, the scabbard had little ornamentation. But the hilt was another matter, it bore all sorts of depictions along the crossguard and pommel. The images included castles, stags, what appeared to be many battle scenes and more. But the image that caught Jasper's eye was on the other side, it was of a lord holding a raised sword over another figure, crouched low on the earth.

Jasper gripped the scabbard tightly with his left hand and swiftly withdrew the blade with his right. He gasped, the first time he had done so in years, as did many lords and knights around the hall and tables. The blade glowed silver ever so slightly, Jasper thought he would be able to see it in the dark. But more so than that, and as everyone in the room instantly knew, it was made of Valyrian Steel.

Jasper wanted to thank Ser Barristan, and his father, he gave a few experimental swings with it, it cut through the air softly and smoothly, it almost seemed to sing as he did so and Jasper had a sudden urge to hack at something. However, there was nothing nearby that he could use, apart from Joffrey, but kinslaying with his new Valyrian Steel sword seemed inappropriate. 'Such a fine sword deserves a name', his father said, who did not look surprised at all by the gift, and Jasper realised that Barristan had either asked his father's permission to search for this sword in Essos, or had done so under his father's orders. Names were called out from the crowd, ranging from simple names like Antler, to more regal and impressive names like Lightstorm. Jasper kept one ear listening to the crowd as he continued to look in awe at it. However as the crowd seemed to be getting impatient, Jasper's gaze returned to the scene of the execution and something Stannis had once told him flittered into his head.

"_Justice comes from the gods, that is what the High Septon will prattle at you in King's Landing Jasper. But it is men who deal it out and men who decide what is and isn't justice. When you are Lord of Storm's End, you shall be the one to deal out justice in your lands. Be just and you shall be a fine lord. Become like your father's courtiers when it comes to justice, and you shall fail, and justice shall one day seek you out_."

"I have the name", Jasper declared and all fell silent to hear it, "High Justice". He held up the sword as applause and shouts of approval reached him. However, that was not the finest present of the evening, for, at the end of the feast, his mother, his father and uncle Renly, although slightly further behind from then and carrying a scroll, approached him. Everyone was silent as they watched this unfold, Jasper sheathing his sword and placing it carefully upon the table in front of him.

"Jasper", his mother said, reaching out and stroking his cheek softly across the table. "You and I have rarely seen eye to eye, I have done things that repelled you and I have not been considerate of your views and wishes. I hope that one day I will have your forgiveness. But until that day and after it, know that you will and always have had my love." Jasper saw the truth in her bright green eyes, eyes he had often wished he had inherited himself, rather than the blue of Baratheon. His breathing deepened and tears almost reached his eyes as he thought of how long he had wanted his mother to say that to him. But now it was his father's turn.

"My son", his father declared, "I was watched you grow for these last years, despite my being one of the worst father's on this shit earth. I hope you know that I have always been proud of you, every one of your achievements, even those that happened when I was too drunk to recognise them. Your tutelage under Stannis has led you learned and just, to the point where I have no doubt you will prove yourself worthy of possessing that new sword of yours. Now", he held out his hand and Renly placed the scroll, sealed with a royal seal, in his hand. "It is for these reasons that I have decided not to wait, I have decided that you are worthy, right now, of taking your right". He passed Jasper the scroll, who tentatively broke the seal and unrolled it. His eyes widened as he read the contents. "From this day, until your last, in a line to be carried on by your heirs and their heirs, I hereby name you, Jasper Baratheon, Lord of Storm's End, and Lord Paramount of the Stormlands." Jasper did not hear the applause, he was staring into space breathing quickly. He could not feel anything, he knew he had always wanted Storm's End, ever since his father had told him he was to have it, but now it was his. The applause died down and everyone as looking at Jasper, some with concern. "Son?" His father asked.

Jasper's breathing came hard and fast, it was too much. His vision started to fade as he couldn't stop himself, his breaths became ragged and he started coughing. He vaguely heard someone call out his name and he nearly fell, clutching the table for support. Then there was a scraping of benches and chairs as all rose to look at him worriedly. Then it was over as a huge force slammed into his stomach, forcing all the air from his lungs and winding him preventing him from continuing his hyperventilation. He coughed and spluttered as his eyes regained focus. Everyone was silent, and when he recovered his breath, he noticed that half of them weren't looking at him, but at Arya, who clutched the still sheathed sword in her hand. She had been the one to slam his sword into his stomach, preventing him from collapsing at his own coming of age. He smiled, and then he laughed, and as he laughed louder most of the hall joined in as well as his father boomed out for the feat to begin.

He could not remember the rest of the feast, or much that happened that evening, too overwhelmed with everything that had happened. He could only start remembering thing from when he left the hall to escort Arya back to her chambers before returning to her own, his gifts having been taken away already to be properly housed.

"Well Jasper", she teased him as they made it to her door, she had been teasing him for his gifts most of the evening, when she wasn't admiring them herself. "Do I have to call you my lord now then?"

"I am always Jasper to you Arya", he replied smiling.

"Good, that is all I will ever call you", she said, with laughter in her eyes, "you will never be my lord to me."

"Oh I know", he replied again, turning at the door to her chamber. "But continue like this and I will not let you hold the unsheathed sword tomorrow", her laughter vanished from her eyes as Jasper threatened that, for he had said she could hold his new sword when they were training the next day. "I bid you goodnight Arya", Jasper, partly due to the good mood he was in from the feast, and partly due to the wine, leaned down and kissed Arya softly. Pulling away from her unmoving lips he grinned down at her partially stunned partially angry face before turning and making his way to his own chambers to sleep.


	9. Eddard III

Ned finally pushed the last of the documents before him aside. It had been a long day serving as Hand of the King and he had the next meeting to prepare for, which was to happen tomorrow morning. The castle had finally calmed down from the nameday celebrations of Jasper, who was now a high lord in his own right. It appeared that Robert had told only Renly, who had been the previous lord of Storm's End, and Cersei about the decision, for even he had no idea that it was coming. He was partly worried about Arya, for, as Lord of Storm's End, the pressure was on him to get a wife and a child, but Arya was only twelve and not yet flowered, moreover she was not the maternal sort, and did not relish the idea of becoming the Lady of Storm's End particularly. Despite this, she had not actually complained about it to him, maybe, gods be good, she was becoming more accustomed and accepting of the idea. From the way she was talking about Jasper, Ned was more and more convinced that he had made the right decision about the marriage of the two of them. He opened the curtains behind him and looked out over the city, taking note of the spy that Varys had once pointed out to him in this very chamber, which was why he took to working with the curtains firmly shut. He was settling into this role better than he would have expected to back in the North, but it was not comfortable for him. He missed Winterfell, the double walls, the godswood, his wife, his sons, his friends, none of them were here with him. He had not even seen Bran since he had woken up and hoped to do so before long. Yelling and clashes of wood drew his attention and he looked down into the courtyard, catching Jasper moving backwards, practice sword in his right hand, shield in his left as he deflected strikes from Arya, who was hacking at him relentlessly. He could see some finesse in her moves however, and knew that he had made the right choice asking Jasper to teach her.

He turned away from the window and contemplated Jon Arryn's death again. So far he had found the bastard blacksmith of Robert and heard that he and Stannis visited several brothels together, which confused him deeply, for Jon was over seventy and Stannis detested brothels. He did not know which brothels were visited, but since Littlefinger was aware of it there was a fair chance that some of them belonged to him. Maybe Jasper knew why they had visited the brothels, Stannis had been his mentor after all, he would send one of his men to summon Jasper to him once his training was done with Arya, maybe then he would finally get some answers.

Jory arrived with Jasper a short while later, his black hair was wet and plastered to his face, but it was too wet to be sweat, so he must have washed before coming to him. "Lord Stark", he greeted, taking a seat that Ned offered him, "how can I help you?"

"I just have a question about Stannis", Ned replied, Jasper nodded back and waited. "Do you know why he visited some brothels before the death of Jon Arryn?"

"Is that what he was doing?" Jasper asked and Ned's heart sank, Jasper had been his best chance for finding out what was going on. "No, I am afraid not, what are you saying Lord Stark?"

Ned took a breath, he did not want to reveal too much to Jasper, but at the same time, he still owed Jasper for saving Arya's life. "I think Jon Arryn discovered something and was killed for it, Varys seems to think that the Tears of Lys were used. He went visiting brothels with Stannis, meaning that I think Stannis may know what it was."

"Are you saying", Jasper asked quietly an slowly, but not threateningly, "that uncle Stannis left the capital after Jon Arryn died because he feared that someone would kill him as well?"

"It's possible", Ned replied.

"No", Jasper said getting to his feet. "I cannot believe that, uncle Stannis would stare down a dragon if it was his duty, he would not be afraid enough to flee."

"Unless, with the death of Jon Arryn, his survival became paramount to performing his duty", Ned pointed out.

"But what could that be?" Jasper asked him. "What could possibly be so important that he would leave the capital so quickly?"

"I do not know", Ned said, "I have been trying to get him to return, but thus far have proved unsuccessful. I would also implore you not to visit him", Ned warned, "if someone thinks that you know what Jon Arryn knew then they might try and kill you as well. They may also find it necessary to kill Stannis in his home. For his life and your own, do not contact him about this matter."

Jasper nodded after a pause before turning to the door. However, when he had his hand on the door handle, he turned back. "Lord Stark, there is something I have been meaning to discuss with you." Ned raised an eyebrow and indicated the chair again. Jasper sat down and looked decidedly more nervous than before. "In a week, I will depart for Storm's End to set myself up there", he said, "I want to take Arya with me, get her used to her future home."

"Ah", Ned said, thinking it over, "I see". He thought about it, it did make sense for Arya to travel to her future home and see it and get settled there, but that would mean separating himself from another of his family, he did not particularly like the idea of Arya in Storm's End, alone amongst the people there.

"I would not expect her to go alone", Jasper said, "you may send whatever guards and members of your household you feel are necessary." Ned nodded.

"I shall ask Arya what she wants this evening", he said finally. "If she wants to, she can go with you, if not, she will stay here." Jasper nodded and got to his feet. "Will you be at the meeting tomorrow?" Ned asked as Jasper reached the door.

"Of course Lord Stark", Jasper replied. "It is my duty after all."

Ned entered the chamber of the small council and his eyes widened, Robert was there, sitting where he should be, as was ser Barristan, who did not always attend, even now, having returned from Essos. All other members were present as well, from Varys to Renly. Ned walked up to Robert slowly. "The whore is pregnant", Robert said simply, and in an instant, Ned knew he was talking about Daenerys Targaryen. "I warned you Ned, on the Kingsroad in the North, I warned you this would happen, but you didn't choose to hear it, well, hear it now." Robert looked around at the councillors. "I want them dead, mother and child both, and that fool Viserys as well is that plain enough for you?"

"You are talking of murdering a child", Ned said, he managed to restrain himself from shouting in outrage, "you are Robert Baratheon not Tywin Lannister. Where did we even hear this from?"

"Ser Jorah Mormont, he is acting as advisor to the Targaryens", Varys would have continued but Ned cut across him.

"Mormont, you bring us the whispers of a traitor, half a world away, and call it fact."

"He is a slaver, not a traitor", Littlefinger replied, "small difference I know, to a man of honour."

"He broke the King's Law and he fled, why should we trust him now?"

"He seeks a way back to Westeros", Varys replied, "he has been spying on her for us in order to get this way back."

"Essos is the continent for Slavers", Jasper said, "he would find himself more welcome at Astapor than he would here." Ned agreed with him.

Robert banged on the table, "you are supposed to be my council, council this fool and me, what should we do?"

"This is our chance, we must kill them now", Renly said, "we should have had them both killed years ago, whilst we had a better chance."

"I understand your misgivings my lord, truly, it is a terrible thing, but we who presume to rule must sometimes do terrible things for the good of the realm", Varys said in his leathery voice.

"When you find yourself in bed with an ugly woman", Ned caught Jasper role his eyes at Littlefinger's analogy. "You should just close your eyes and continue, cut her throat, and we'll be done."

Grand Maester Pycelle was next, "if the Dothraki invade, how many thousands will die? Is it not better, kinder even to kill one now so that thousands may live?"

Ser Barristan finally put in his comment, "whatever the reason or threat, assassination of an unborn child is wrong and I will not support it."

Everyone looked at Jasper, who appeared to be formalising his thoughts, Ned prayed he made the right choice, Robert would listen to his own son, at least, he hoped he would. "Speaking as the Master of Ships, I believe the assassination would be more risky than useful to us."

Most people raised their eyebrows and Robert said simply, "explain Jasper."

"In order to get an invading host across the narrow sea, you would need a vast number of ships", Jasper said, "the more men the more ships the more supplies. I would say that the largest host you could invade Westeros with at once would be five thousand strong, anything larger and it would be split up by storms and easily dealt with. Look at this map", Jasper moved over to a hanging map of Westeros. "The landing sites big enough for an entire host are limited. Shipbreaker bay", he pointed to the bay of the Stormlands, "for obvious reasons, not the place you would land a large host. Blackwater bay has the Royal Fleet protecting it, the Vale does not have a large enough harbour for such a host before the Royal Fleet could move up and smash it and the North is simply too vast and untamed to land a host. The Redwynes block any attempt to land a host on the other side of Westeros. Therefore, simply getting an army over here would be a challenge. The Dothraki, do not like water, in fact they detest it, I would be willing to say that they would get so sea sick they would not be such a threat when they landed and could be destroyed. But the main problem is supply. How large is the Targaryen's husband's horde?"

"Reports indicate anything from forty to one hundred thousand my prince", Varys replied.

"Okay, so let us say forty thousand men", Jasper said, "these are Dothraki, which means probably more than forty thousand horses. That many horses would require you to put in to port daily for water alone, let alone fodder and food for the crews, you cannot cross the Narrow Sea in a day, it is impossible, many of the horses would be dehydrated, as would the men, they would be desperate, disorganised and again, easily defeated."

"Can I just ask?" Renly said, "what about if the Targaryen landed in Dorne?"

"If the Targaryen landed in Dorne I would consider it a blessing. Transporting forty thousand horsemen across the desert sands would give us time to man the castles of the Dornish Marches, we would easily be able to stop them."

"But if we kill her now then they will not cross and this problem is over", Littlefinger said.

"I disagree", Jasper said. "Am I the only person who reads here?" He asked. "The Dothraki rely on strength, that is what defines leadership, not blood, an unborn babe has no strength and therefore no potential for leadership. The Dothraki also hate the sea, they would need a very compelling reason to cross it to launch war when there is plenty of war in Essos. Father you fought a war over a betrothed", Jasper said, in reference to Prince Rhaegar's kidnap of Lyanna Stark. Robert scowled and looked at the table. "I think that killing this Khal's wife would be just the reason that he needs to sail and make war. I myself I would rather give them no reason to come over here, than risk the Seven Kingdoms by attempting to kill them." Jasper retook his seat. "Who disagrees with me?" Robert opened his mouth but Jasper cut across him. "Father if you wanted to stop the Targaryens returning with a horde of Dothraki, the best way to do it would be to let them be, if you had to kill someone, do not kill the wife, kill the husband, he is the threat here, not the girl and not the unborn babe."

"No assassin would attempt to kill a Khal, especially not this one, he is the most powerful of them all", Varys said.

"Well then, we should leave them", Jasper replied, sitting back. "The Targryen child will be raised a Dothraki, he or she will never have heard of the Iron Throne much less care about it. Leave them be father, it is the best way, Westeros is safe and the Targaryens will watch as their chances and will for returning diminish bit by bit."

Robert sat back. "Perhaps you could sit there permanently", Robert said finally. "That is sound council, very well, the Targaryen remains untouched, but keep a close eye on the situation should it develop further." Varys nodded and Ned sighed with relief. Jasper may have just saved the kingdom, but he definitely saved Robert from himself.


	10. Arya II

Arya was busily making sure that she had everything with her, although it was less vital than the trip from Winterfell, given that Storm's End was closer to King's Landing so anything she left behind could more easily be sent on, she wanted it all with her. When her father had asked her if she wanted to go to Storm's End with Jasper, the answer had been an almost immediate yes. She had heard a lot about Storm's End but had never seen it, and she had grown bored with the Red Keep. A small part of her was unhappy that she would not see her family on a regular basis again, but King's Landing was only a week or so away from Storm's End and as such she could easily visit father and Sansa if she wanted to. Jasper had also said to her that, with his new ship he had named Winter's Fury, she could go to the North at times as well. She liked the name of the ship, since it combined both her words and his. Needle was packed, her clothes were hastily thrown into her packs and all of her other possessions were also ready to be taken. Nymeria seemed just about as excited for the journey as she was, there was a lot of difficulty getting down to the carriages with her. However, she was there now and was waiting for her, as was Jasper and whatever men and women were going with them to Storm's End. After a last check of her chambers, she called in the servants who would be taking her stuff down to the gate for them to take with them. The servants looked with disdain at the clothes she was wearing, but Jasper had told her she could ride with him to Storm's End and so she wore her breeches, dresses were just uncomfortable things to ride in and besides, she didn't like dresses anyway.

She approached the gate and saw that the royal family was also there, not surprising now she thought of it, Jasper was one of them after all, it was only right that they see him off. Jasper smiled when he saw her, he was in light clothing with a cloak on and his High Justice at his hip, his shortsword at his back, his black hair flicked in his face in the wind and his blue eyes shone brightly in the dawn. Arya looked over the retinue. Of her father's household, only a small number of people were accompanying her, mostly due to the fact that she had few friends amongst them, unlike her sister, her friends were still in the North. But there were servants for her, only a few, and two guardsmen, Heward, and Wyl, two of her father's best swords, her father had also told her that an additional ten would sail south from Winterfell and join her in Storm's End. She didn't see the need herself, but some familiar faces would be good, maybe they would join her in training at Storm's End, she hoped so, it would be good to remember the Northern fighting style.

Jasper's retinue was far larger, she saw at least thirty guardsmen, most in Baratheon colours, even some in Lannister armour as well; dozens of servants also accompanied them, as did a man with four hounds with him.

Arya watched as Jasper went over to his family to say goodbye and supposed she should do the same, even though most of the goodbyes had been said the previous evening. She simply hugged her sister, knowing that, however much they got along, she would miss her. Then she came to her father, who knelt down to her level. "Now you be good Arya", he said sternly, but warmly, "listen to Jasper and obey him, you will be a guest under his roof."

"I remember what he did when he was a guest under our roof", Arya pointed out, casting a sidelong look at the crown prince.

Her father chuckled, "yes well, you don't have an annoying sibling as an excuse, so I don't want to hear of anything like that happening, okay?"

"Yes father", Arya wrapped her arms around her father's shoulders and felt his arms wrap around her in a tight embrace. "Goodbye" she said, her eyes filling slightly with tears. "Be safe, I'll be with the Stag, you are still stuck with the lions." Her father's face adopted a strange expression and he looked over at the royal family.

"Yes, yes I am aren't I", then he turned back to her, "goodbye love", her father replied, releasing the hug and getting to his feet. "You two look after her", he said to Heward and Wyl.

"Yes my lord", they replied together.

Arya turned and, upon seeing Jasper mounting his horse, did the same with a horse Jasper had provided for her. They turned and rode out of the gate of King's Landing towards her future home of Storm's End.

Storm's End was indeed huge. The outer wall stretched high into the sky and Arya could see from the approach that it was thick as well. Jasper had told her that at it's thinnest, the wall was forty feet thick, but she did not believe it, now she did. The huge tower in the middle must have been the heights of Winterfell's First Keep twice over, she imagined standing up there and wondered if you could see King's Landing from the very top, maybe she would find out. "Arya", it was Jasper, she looked at him to see a grin on his face. "Race to the walls?" Arya grinned back at him before nodding, they both spurred their horses and raced forward, all those in the party who were mounted joined them, racing hard for the wall. But Jasper won the race, getting to the huge walls and gatehouse just a few seconds before Arya and the rest of the company. "Okay", he said, laughing slightly, "let us get settled in." The gate opened and they rode into the courtyard, Arya looked up at the tall tower that was the only building within the castle walls, the rest of the courtyard was made up of training grounds for the men, most of whom had ceased their training to welcome their new lord to the castle, a godswood, which Nymeria happily bounded straight towards, she had become much more independent now, rushing off on her own so much that they had to keep her on a chain at King's Landing, as soon as the journey began, she had been rushing everywhere, not calming down for a second. They bowed as Jasper dismounted and helped Arya down, then Jasper moved over to the entrance where there were two people in prominence, one was a boy of around fifteen with hair that was black as Jasper's but with quite large ears, and one was a man, fully grown with a bald head and a great red beard.

Jasper beckoned Arya over. "Arya, I would like you to meet Ser Cortnay Penrose, Castellan of Storm's End, and Edric Storm, my half brother. Ser Cortnay, Edric, this is my bride to be and good friend, Arya Stark."

"Lady Arya", Ser Cortnay said with a bow, Arya felt herself bristle but ignored it, she would teach them all to call her by name eventually, this was their first meeting and she did not want to give a bad first impression, "it is an honour to meet you."

"You also Ser Courtnay", she replied. "You too Edric."

Edric looked surprised at that, and then Jasper stepped in, "Arya also has a half brother", he explained, "she bares you no ill will due to your birth."

"Oh okay", the boy said, looking at her, "a pleasure to meet you too, Lady Arya."

"Please", Arya said holding up her hand, "just Arya." They were interrupted by the arrival of the carriages.

"Okay, Edric, do you know where the quarters for Arya are to be?" Jasper asked his half brother. Edric nodded, "okay, Arya, if you could follow Edric, the servants will bring your things, and I will deal with any immediate matters before I check on you, okay?" Arya nodded and so Jasper turned and entered the castle, following Ser Cortnay.

"If you would like to follow me Lady Arya", Edric Storm told her, stepping aside to allow her to enter first.

"How can I follow you if I enter first?" Arya asked him.

Edric blushed and led the way inside. Arya gazed at the tapestries of great battles and hunting trips that lined the walls as the followed Edric up the stairs of the tower several floors until he turned off, led her down a corridor and then stopped. "We have prepared two rooms for you Lady Arya", he said, Arya gritted her teeth slightly at being called lady but did not say anything. "Would you like one that looks over the sea or one that looks inland." Thinking of all the dirt they had travelled through, Arya said, "I'll take the one looking over the sea." Edric nodded and pushed open a nearby door and stood aside to allow Arya in. Arya stepped in, it was a large room, bigger than her one at Winterfell and the one at King's Landing, with a large bed in the middle of it, a vanity by the wall opposite, next to a large window that she could see out of when standing to full height and a wardrobe on the wall opposite the bed.

"This will do", she said turning around. She saw that the servants were already bringing her things in and placing them around the room where they should be. She turned back to Edric, "can you take me to the roof?" Edric grinned and nodded, darting out of the room and beckoning her to follow. She did follow him and they rushed up the next few stair cases until they reached a door outside, which Edric pushed open before leading her through it.

She was wrong, she could not see King's Landing from here, but she had a clear view of the entire forest they had come through, the Kingswood, as well as all the surrounding areas, she could see villages, towns, hamlets and holdfasts, fields as well, many of them interspersed between the woodland. "How did I know I would find you here?" Arya and Edric jumped and turned to find Jasper emerging from the doorway they had just come through. "Your room is a mess", he told her and she looked ashamed, "the household is not here to put up all your things for you Arya, I should think your father would not be pleased about that." She did not look at him until he chuckled and said, "you should all come in, supper is being served."

"What is it?" Edric asked.

"Run along and find out, little brother", Jasper replied. Edric nodded and rushed off down the steps.

"Can we come back here after supper?" Arya asked, "I like it here."

Jasper looked up and Arya followed his gaze to see the Baratheon flag that was flying from the top of the castle fluttering very rapidly, flying around the flagpole. "You won't want to", he said to her after looking, "there is a storm coming."

"So?"

"So", Jasper laughed, "you will not want your first experience of a Storm's End storm to be from up here, I guarantee it."

Later in bed, as Arya was clutching the covers at the sounds of the storm, not daring to open the shutters less it come into her room, Arya was very glad that Jasper had warned her not to be on the roof.


	11. Eddard IV

Ned poured over the book that Jon Arryn had requested from Grand Maester Pycelle, and it was as he had feared when Arya had said those words to him, _Lions_, the Hand of the King thought to himself, _they are all Lions_. They had all seen the hair and the eyes of Joffrey Tommen and Myrcella, and yet only now did Ned know what it meant, and Jon Arryn before him, possibly even Stannis,but Ned could not be sure of the extent of the Lord of Dragonstone's knowledge on the matter of Robert's children. But the bastards, Ned had wondered what Jon had been interested in when it came to those children, but now he knew, they were proof of Robert's blood, none could deny they were his, they all had his hair and his eyes, just like the Black Prince. Ned thought it ironic that the title that Jasper had gained across the Seven Kingdoms as a way of recognising his difference was the biggest indicator that something was wrong with the other children, and that not one man in King's Landing had noticed. But that was probably wrong, they may well have noticed and then been silenced by the Queen or thought it served their interests for the knowledge to remain hidden.

Ned cursed and blessed his fortune at the same time. He blessed the fact that Arya was gone, for she would not be there when the fuse was lit and the wildfire set off, however he cursed the fact that he had discovered the truth now, less than a day after Robert had left on a hunting expedition, with much of the court and hundreds of lords and knights, leaving Ned the reins of power, not that he ever took them up anyway. But as much power as Ned had as Hand of the King, he knew he could not act against Cersei without Robert's consent, Lord Tywin would react first, and that man, despite his caution, could move fast if he had to. Ned still remembered coming to King's Landing, expecting to find the Targaryen loyalists attempting to hold the city, only to find the Lion banners flying from the walls and towers of smoke rising above the city. Tywin much have ridden hard, using both forced marches and night marches to reach the capital in such a short amount of time, for the rebel host at the Trident following their victory over Prince Rhaegar was much closer to the Capital that even the Golden Tooth, the easternmost castle of the Westerlands. Ned considered sending a raven to Lord Hoster Tully, his father by marriage and Lord of the Riverlands, to keep an eye on the Golden Tooth. Deciding it would be a good idea, Ned quickly penned a letter, making sure to say, for it as surely his son Edmure who would read the letter and respond, not to provoke Tywin and that this was not permission to ride on the Westerlands and make war, but just a precautionary measure.

Next Ned considered penning a letter to Jasper as well, however that might make the true prince ride for the capital, where he could be targeted, Ned needed Jasper to be alive to take his rightful throne, even if he did not want it, Jasper had to be the heir, or the realm would bleed, as Varys so often put it. Instead, he penned a letter to his son. Robb had to be ready, in case of war, he knew that Robb could not call the banners immediately, for if he did the North would suffer in terms of food shortage, for his lords could not gather their food and they would scour the land outside Winterfell clean, but he had to be ready to do so, and he also should send word to Lord Wyman Manderly to man the broken towers of Moat Cailin with some archers.

Ned wrote the two letters, to Lord Hoster and to Robb, but kept them aside, he would not send them yet, there as a chance to prevent all forms of bloodshed, and Ned had to take it, for Tommen and Myrcella if nothing else, they were sweet, kind children, and should not suffer for the sins of their parents.

Next Ned had to decide what to do about the King's brothers, Renly had accompanied Robert on the hunt and so was out of reach, but Stannis was on Dragonstone and could be here within the day. If Ned sent his findings to Stannis, he would have a key ally in the battle against Cersei. But the holdings of Dragonstone were meagre, Stannis could not mobilise enough men to secure the city in enough time, only Jasper and Lord Hoster could do that on short notice, given that they were the closest of the Great Lords of Westeros. Stannis' sense of rigidity was also a reason not to involve him, he likely had few allies in court. If there was no Jasper, then Stannis would have to be informed, but since there was, Ned would not involve him at this time.

"Jory", Ned called out and his captain of the guards entered his room.

"My lord?"

"Call back my guards", he said to Jory, the safety of Sansa was paramount, "station them at the entrances to the tower, and make sure that Sansa has Lady with her at all times. Then send a messenger to the Queen, ask her to meet me in the Godswood. I shall take five of our men and go there now to be ready for her."

Jory, ever the faithful guardsman, did not question his orders. "At once my lord." Ned gathered up his cloak and fastened it to his chest. Then he left the chambers for the Godswood, in an attempt to guard the realm from war. In an attempt to save the innocent.

"You look more at peace here than anywhere else I have seen you." Ned opened his eyes, he had been resting on a bench underneath the heart tree in the godswood. "The south does not agree with you Lord Stark", the queen approached him, four Lannister swords behind her. She was dressed in a typical red gown, her hair flowing low to her waist.

Ned stood up, facing the queen. "I know the truth Jon Arryn died for."

Cersei only raised an eyebrow. "Did you call me here to pose me riddles, Tyrion is better for that than I."

"And what of your other brother, your grace?"

"Jaime is best with a sword in hand", Cersei said proudly, almost reverently, "that is what my brother does best."

"Your brother?" Ned asked, getting to the point he wanted to make, "or is he your lover?"

Cersei did not even bother to deny it, indeed she only smiled a little, thankfully, her guardsmen and Ned's were far enough away that they did not hear. "Targaryens wed brother to sister for three hundred years to keep a pure bloodline", she said as though to justify her actions.

"Which resulted in Kings with titles like Unworthy, Unlikely and Mad King", Ned countered.

"Jaime and I are more than brother and sister", Cersei said, "we shared a womb, we came into this world together, we belong together, when he is inside me, I feel whole."

"My son saw you with him", Ned said, he could not help his lip curl a little in rage, "Bran was ten years old, and you threw him from a window."

"Jaime threw him from that window", Cersei said defensively as Ned rubbed the pommel of his sword, which got a slight look of fear in Cersei's eyes, she knew he could kill her then and there.

"He was a guest under our roof", Ned replied, "and he attempted to murder my son."

"You love your children Lord Stark?" She asked, avoiding Ned's point. Jaime had broken the guest right, there was no crime greater in the North, or across the Seven Kingoms.

"With all my heart", Ned replied.

"No more than I love mine", Cersei declared, and Ned saw the truth in her eyes.

Ned raised an eyebrow, "all of them? Even Jasper?"

"Jasper more than the others", Cersei said, and he did see there was true pride there. "He was a mistake, I made Robert shoot his seed against my thigh, there was no time to catch it in my hand, but some must have gone inside me. The next day I made love to Jaime in an attempt to cleanse the feeling. It worked, and when I thought he had given me another son I wept in joy, them he slipped from between my thighs, black haired and silent, sleeping. I laboured for half a day to bring Joff into this world, Jasper was no more than a few hours, and he almost fell out with ease. Not even Myrcella was easier than Jasper." Cersei looked down and smiled to herself, Ned waiting calmly to see what else she said. "Of all my children Jasper is the one who is most me, that willpower, that drive and determination, he makes me proud every time he stands up to me and Robert."

"Most would say that he is more Stannis than anyone."

Cersei snarled, "I pleaded, I wept for Robert to keep my Black Prince by me, but he insisted on sending him off to Stannis, that man tainted Jasper, Jasper didn't merely stand up to me, he resented me and that is all Stannis." Ned thought that perhaps it was a good thing that Stannis was not here, for the queen was clearly out for his blood.

"You've always hated them haven't you?" Ned asked, "you hate the Baratheons, that is why you convinced Joffrey to split his sigil with yours."

"Hated them?" Cersei replied. "The Baratheon Brothers, one who slew Rhaegar Targaryen, the most beautiful man and brilliant man ever, the hero who brought down the Mad King and Stannis, the man who ate boot leather rather than yield. I worshiped Robert and I respected Stannis, I would only go further than Stannis did for my children, never for either of my brothers. But then I met them, Stannis was cold and rigid as iron and wanted my brother sent to the Wall for killing the Mad King, and Robert", Cersei scoffed and shook her head. "Our wedding was marvellous, everything I could ever have wanted, and then he climbed on top of me that night stinking of wine and did what he did hat little he could do, and as he spent himself inside me he whispered the name Lyanna." The next glare that the queen sent in Ned's direction was one of almost loathing. "Your sister was a corpse and I was a living woman, the most beautiful woman in the Kingdoms and he loved her more than me."

"It was your duty to father Robert's children, and you scorned him for Jaime", Ned said.

"Do not speak to me of children in that regard!" Cersei declared loudly, "you fathered that bastard during a time of war and my every moment in the time of peace that followed was just as horrific."

Ned took a sharp breath, thinking back to the tourney of Harrenhal, where Brandon won him the dance of the woman he adored from afar, _Ashara_, he thought, and he was reminded of the horror on her face when he took Jon from her arms at Starfall, he never saw her throw herself from the tower afterwards, but he knew that it was his fault, he had killed Ashara, just as surely as Robert had killed Rhaegar. He had loved Ashara, but he did his duty by his wife, hoping that Jon would grow up a brother with Robb and the others. Then his mind turned to war, the Battle of the Bells, where he had caught the host of Jon Connington, the Battle of the Trident, where he had fought in the raging waters of that river, the Northmen at his side and under Robert's banner. He thought of Pyke, where he had assaulted the walls of the Ironborn castle alongside his friend. Cersei may think that she knew of war, but in truth she knew little and less of the horrors of that time.

"When the King returns", Ned declared, "I shall tell l the King of this, you must be gone by then, with Jaime's children, and Jaime himself, far away, leave Jasper to take his rightful place, he shall stop Robert's wrath from following you, and you can live out your lives in peace elsewhere."

"What of my wrath Lord Stark?" Cersei asked him. "Does that mean nothing? You could have prevented this whole affair had you taken the throne for yourself. Jaime told me all about it, how you had ridden into the court, the Lannister men at arms on their knees before you, Jaime himself sat upon the Iron Throne, waiting to see who would claim it. And then you did, but you claimed it for Robert."

"Robert was the leader of the Rebellion, we fought the war in his name", Ned began.

"Just as I shall fight the next one in the name of Joffrey, the true king", Cersei declared. "You made a mistake in not claiming the Throne for yourself when you had the chance. Joff will not."

Ned shook his head, "I have made many mistakes your grace", Ned told her, "but that was not one of them."

"Oh but it was Lord Stark", Cersei replied, "when you play the game of thrones you win, or you die, there is no middle ground."

As Cersei turned to leave, Ned called out to her, "this is not a game of thrones your grace, this is a game of vengeance, vengeance and justice." Cersei left without another word. Ned left just after, he had ravens to send, swords to sharpen and battles to prepare for.

_A/N So there it is, I was going to announce my belief for Jon's parentage much later, but since I do not know when I shall finish it, and this belief is necessary to how the story, at least part of it, shall end, I will say it now. Particularly should I not finish it before TWOW, and in that book GRRM reveals that Jon's parents are not Ned and Ashara._

_My beliefs for Jon's mother being Ashara are the following: _

_Targaryen children, nine times out of ten, have at least one aspect of them that is Targaryen, and Rhaegar in particular was described as having strong Targaryen features, I use as examples here the Great Bastards of Aegon IV, all of whom had one Targaryen aspect, either the silver hair or the purple eyes, apart from Daemon Blackfyre who had both. We know that Rhaegar's daughter Rhaenys took after her mother, and since the Targaryen King married a Dornish wife when Dorne was made a part of the Seven Kingdoms, the Dornish genes did not become inherent in the Targaryen bloodlines and were not strong enough to overpower the Targaryen genes. As such Targaryen genes are clearly strong, so it is unlikely that two children born to Rhaegar would have completely non Targaryen looks. _

_It was heavily rumoured that a Stark slept with Ashara at Harrenhal, either Brandon or Eddard, which took place a year before Robert's Rebellion. _

_Ashara was a lady in waiting to Princess Elia, so why was she not in King's Landing with her during the Rebellion, as was her duty, well, she was described as being "kind" by Barristan, who. If she was, then Elia would therefore probably have been kind enough to let Ashara return home to give birth to her child so that the world would not know of the shame of it. _

_They say she threw herself from the tower following the death of her brother Arthur. Yet Arthur was a Kingsguard, and though he was Rhaegar's best friend, his duty, first and foremost would have been to protect the king, not Rhaegar, who would have been at Dragonstone, ruling as Prince of Dragonstone. As such they would probably not have been as close as some siblings might be, particularly given the differing duties of males and females at this time. As such, I find it hard to believe that the death of her brother _alone_ would have been enough to drive her to suicide. However, the death of her brother at the hands of her lover who then took her son away from her, that is much more of a cause for suicide. _

_The death of Ashara, and himself being the cause for it, would be a very solid reason why he would not speak of his mother, he would not want to shame Ashara or himself any further. _

_Arya doesn't want to marry or have children, she has said so often and it has been said of her. Arya is frequently compared to Lyanna, so even if the RLJ argument is true, I disagree with the theory that Lyanna loved Rhaegar, for there is no evidence to suggest it. I highly doubt that Rhaegar giving her flowers would be enough to change her, especially if she is as much like Arya as she is said to be. _

_UPDATE; Another reason that I forgot to mention is fire resistance. Daenerys walks into a fire and emerges unscathed. Jon picks up a lamp and receives severe burns. If dragon blood confers resistance to heat, why did he get injured by a lamp?_

_So, there are my reasons, I hope this does not turn anyone against me or the story in general and that they will keep on reading. _

_Also please keep up with the reviews, I do appreciate that I am rubbish when it comes to A/Ns but they really do help. :)_


	12. Tyrion I

_A/N: I do apologise for the delay, but I have been busy preparing for university. I am going there tomorrow, and so have not had time to write much, however here is the next chapter set just after Ned attempts to seize the Throne from Cersei and name Jasper king. Read the first paragraph to see what changed with Ned still able to fight. _

_In answer to Blorg13. Of the three "camps" in the capital, the Baratheon one was the weakest, in my mind, followed by the Starks and the Lannisters on top. Of the forty or so guardsmen of the house that are loyal to the Black Prince, most went with him when he left for Storm's End, and the others accompanied Robert's body back there to be buried. Thus the Starks are on their own, and they are still Baratheon men, and as far as they are concerned, Joffrey is still a Baratheon. Also, Jasper had no way of knowing that his father would die. Therefore he had no reason to tell those loyal to him to defend the Starks from Joffrey anyway, since his father would be able to protect Ned. As powerful as Cersei is, she could not stand up to Robert. _

Tyrion wrinkled his nose at the stench of blood coming from the throne room. Ned Stark had just been carried off to the black cells, his men were slain and the letter that he had presented to Tyrion's dear sister was in pieces on the floor. However the price was high. Ned Stark was a warrior of some renown, veteran of two wars, more so than any man in the room, other than Ser Barristan, and he had personally hacked down four Lannister swords, and six of the gold cloaks, and that was after he had cleaved Littlefinger in half for treason. However, against the combined efforts of Jaime and the Hound, he was disarmed and taken to the Black Cells. The Northern guardsmen were also clearly skilled fighters, the forty or so of them present had made a heroic stand before falling to the vastly superior numbers of the goldcloaks and Lannister swords in the room. In particular, the captain of the guards defeated four gold cloaks and a Lannister sword before he was confronted and cut down, shoulder to hip, by the Hound. He was just glad that Jaime had the sword in the family, but he was no longer here. Following the fiasco with Ned Stark's discovery of Joffrey's parentage, Cersei had wanted Jaime close. But Tyrion had seen through that and realised it would be better if Jaime were not in the capital, in case people there drew too many similarities between Jaime and the king before Joffrey's station was secure. Now he could only watch as the Lannisters and goldcloaks moved to eliminate any remaining members of the Stark household left in King's Landing, and take his remaining daughter Sansa hostage. Tyrion knew what Ned Stark had been planning, Cersei had revealed it, horrified that Lancel would fail to get Robert drunk enough to die on the hunt and return, to hear the truth and condemn her to death. He also knew that, should Ned Stark have sent knowledge of the facts to anyone else, to have Jaime and Cersei together, people might start believing it. It was for that reason that Tyrion approached Jaime and convinced him to go to Casterly Rock, stay with their father until the events had blown over, or come with the Lannister hosts shold war break out.

Once Jaime had taken his leave of the Capital, riding hard through the Lion's gate with two guards, Tyrion made his way to the king's chambers, where his dear sister was sitting in her so recently departed husband's chair, with Varys and Pycelle behind her and Sansa sitting opposite her, looking dejectedly down at the desk and not moving at all. "Lord Tyrion", Varys said in surprise, "what have you been doing?"

"Send Jaime to Casterly Rock", he explained, "should he remain, and Lord Stark had told someone else of his treasonous words, then people might begin to believe the truth in what he said. I also plan to send a raven to Jasper later t-"

"No", his sister said, far too quickly and everyone looked at her in surprise. "We will discuss it later but no ravens shall go to Storm's End yet, I think Jasper would want time to mourn his father, who's body is on the way there now."

"Surely you would like time to mourn your husband dear sister?" Tyrion asked, a mocking smile on his face, he saw his sister scowl. But he could not have been the only person to notice that she wore no black.

"What will happen to my father your grace?" Sansa asked quietly but suddenly.

"He is a traitor", Pycelle said instantly, "he shall get what traitors deserve."

"It will depend upon the actions of your brother", Cersei said, her words cutting across those of the grand master. She pushed a piece of paper towards Sansa, then she handed the scared little girl a quill, "and on you." Tyrion did not need to know what Sansa was writing, for it would be Cersei's words, so he contemplated on what would happen next. Renly had left the city hurriedly, presumably that meant he knew of Joffrey's parentage. Ned had a letter to Stannis on his person when he was taken, asking the Lord of Dragonstone to confirm his suspicions, so presumably Stannis also knew, if the uncles knew it was only a matter of time before one of them told Jasper and then Tyrion did begin to fear. Not so much for himself, he had a good relationship with the boy, but more for Joffrey and the realm, for Jasper had one key thing that Joffrey did not, loyalty and love. The people respected him, nobles respected him, he had a working brain, unlike many, and he was rational. Then the family was in danger, for Jasper would have reasons to fight the crown and, judging by the actions on one uncle and the character of another, he would have a skilled battle commander and a charismatic negotiator behind him. What would Joffrey have? A few corrupt officials, a mother who was overbearing and was not as smart as she thought she was, and himself, a dwarf who had a brain, but not love, or the trust of others to use it. Indeed the main man they would have would be their father Tywin, but firstly, that was not guaranteed for Tywin also respected Jasper, and secondly, he was half a world away, with Arya pledged to Jasper, the North may also side with him, and their blood would lead the Riverlands to side with him, cutting his illustrious father off from the Capital with two armies to fight through and no one to stop Jasper. Oh Tyrion was not optimistic about the chances, should Jasper declare himself king. The main thing giving him optimism about the prospect of war breaking out was that Jasper did not want the throne. Which was partly a shame for he would be the first king in many to be worthy of it.

When Sansa left, Varys asked the question Tyrion had on his mind. "Your grace, why is it that you do not want your son Jasper informed of these events?"

"If Jasper returns too soon, he will demand to see Ned Stark, he will hear his lies and it could lead to war, better for the realm and the king that he come at a later date, once this business with Ned Stark is dealt with once and for all." Tyrion could see a look of triumph in his sister's eyes and could partly agree with her logic, it would in the short term, prevent the risk of war, however, Jasper might feel insulted by the actions of his mother, losing King's Landing the support of the Stormlands.

"What if he is insulted by not being told?" He voiced his concerns to the room. "The support of the Stormlands could be vital in the event of war, and for that support we need Jasper."

"And what if he believes Ned Stark's lies?" Cersei pointed out, "there could be war with the Stormlands. No, Jasper will bend the knee after this matter is settled and remain loyal to the crown."

"What of his uncles?"

"If they bend the knee as well, then they shall not be harmed." Tyrion could see the lie, Cersei planned to eliminate Renly and Stannis, seeing them as threats to her beloved Joff, but currently only Stannis had land and only meagre holdings at that, since Renly had passed Storm's End to Jasper. Should his sweet sister move against Renly or Stannis, they could earn the wrath of a far greater foe, Jasper. But it was pointless to argue with Cersei, she was revelling in her own power now, it would be some time before he could get through to her. _If only father were here_, he thought, _he would remind her of her place and he would know exactly what to do in this situation. I would also have someone else here who is glad that Littlefinger is dead_. In Tyrion's mind, that was the best thing to come out of this day. Never had Tyrion encountered someone who schemed so well as Littlefinger, except possibly Varys, but Varys was more loyal to the realm than Littlefinger. Still, Varys would also need to be watched. Tyrion turned and departed the room. Now that matters were settled, there were two people he most certainly had to see.

He entered Myrcella's bedroom, only to be nearly bowled over by his niece as she hugged him tightly. He returned the hug and checked her over. The events in the throne room had horrified Myrcella, it was most certainly a brutal introduction to bloodshed, seeing the entrails of Littlefinger spread across the floor, they were probably still being cleaned up. "How are you sweetling?" He asked her, scraping some tears from her beautiful cheeks with his thumb. Cersei's cheeks definitely.

"O-okay", she replied, still sniffling. "When is Jasper going to be home?" She asked innocently.

Tyrion sighed, Jasper would be able to calm Tommen and Mycella down, he had always been good to them, just as Jaime had been to him, if not better. "I do not know Sweetling, it may be some time yet, he is still to bury your father before he could come here."

"Why can't I go and help him?" Myrcella asked. Tyrion sighed once more, there was no way that Cersei would let two of her lion cubs go and bury Robert, no matter how much they pleaded, it probably did not occur to her that, should any rumours or speculation emerge about what had happened, that would be but another clue to make it seem the case.

"I will speak to your mother", he said to the sweet and innocent girl. "I will see what I can do about it." She smiled and nodded before returning to her bed and sitting on it.

Tyrion's visit to Tommen's chambers went much the same way, with the young boy extracting the same promise from him that he had given to Myrcella.

Next Tyrion thoughts turned to the two men who would probably be giving Cersei sleepless nights. Stannis was less than a day away from the city with nearly two hundred ships and the Lords of the Narrow Sea. He was also a tried and tested battle commander, having held Storm's End, smashed the Iron Fleet and subdued the largest of the Iron Islands, Great Wyk during the Greyjoy Rebellion. He was a force to be reckoned with and any side in any war that broke out would be grateful to have such a competent commander on their side.

Renly on the other hand was not an experienced commander, still a boy during Robert's Rebellion under the protection of Stannis at Storm's End. Yet despite this he held close ties to the Reach, no doubt due to Ser Loras. He was also not yet a man during the Greyjoy rebellion, where he had remained in the capital with Jon Arryn to assist him in maintaining order in the Seven Kingdoms whilst he subdued the Krakens. He may lack battle experience, but he was known to have left the city with Loras Tyrell and a dozen guardsmen of that house, riding hard, presumably for Highgarden. If he rallied the Reach to his cause then he would have able battle commanders in Randyll Tarly and Mathis Rowan, men and weapons from across the Reach, the food supplies of Mace Tyrell and the wealth and knowledge of Oldtown on his side. Luckily Cersei had acted, and seized the sons of Lord Paxter Redwyne, keeping them in the capital and making sure that the Fleet of the Arbor, probably slightly larger than the Royal Fleet, could not support the march on King's Landing, presuming that it happened at all. Tyrion could only hope that it did not come to war, for with the Northerners alienate due to the execution of their Ned, and Jasper soon to be for not being informed of these matters, prospects were looking bleak.

What with the so called betrayal of the Hand of the King, the conflict over the regency, the death of the Master of Coin and probable conflict within the Royal Family, Tyrion was beginning to think this might just be the least smooth transition of kingship since the Dance of the Dragons.


	13. Robb I

Robb's last few weeks as Lord of Winterfell had been hectic to say the least, hectic and very fast. First his father was arrested for unjust crimes in the capital. Then he called his banners and marched south with a host of eighteen thousand men, of whom five thousand were horsemen, and the rest were foot. His mother had insisted on accompanying them, despite Robb's insistence and the insistences of Bran and Rickon, both of whom wanted their mother to stay behind. But she would not be dissuaded from her course, and so Robb permitted it, naming Ser Rodrik Cassel as Castellan to rule in his absence. Then, when they had passed the Twins and were making their way south along the Green Fork, they had heard reports that Lannister hosts had forced the border of the Riverlands at the Golden Tooth before the Riverlords could mobilise. Now Jaime Lannister was leading a Lannister host of fifteen thousand men through the Riverlands, too fast for any resistance to be organised along the way, rushing for Harrenhal and the Ruby Ford, where Robb would have to cross in order to reach King's Landing and save his father. The only news of support came from the eastern Riverlords, who had rallied behind Brynden Tully, his mother's uncle, known as the Blackfish, and were assembling a host near to the border of the Vale, including men of houses Roote, both branches of House Vance, House Mooton and some of House Whent, although Lady Shella Whent was keeping most of her strength in her castle of Harrenhal so as to repel a Lannister assault on the walls. Altogether, the scouts under Robbet Glover confirmed, due to having met up with Ser Brynden, that Ser Brynden had around seven thousand men gathered to him, although only one thousand five hundred were knights, the rest being levies, the knights were still coming in, but they would not be strong enough to defeat the Kingslayer if he continued at his current rate across the Riverlands.

Lord Tywin himself was marching behind Jaime at a much slower rate, no forced or night marches so as to catch the Northerners, indeed, Lord Roose Bolton and Lord Rickard Karstark pointed out that he was making Jaime block them whilst his fresh men would then destroy them. Lord GreatJon Umber, Robb's strong right hand after Grey Wind's judgement on his loyalty, pointed out that, with Lord Tywin so near them, the western and central Riverlords, including the Tullys themselves and some of their most powerful bannermen, the Brackens, the Blackwoods, the Pipers and the Mallisters could not call their men. However there were already reports of Ser Marq Piper's men harassing the Lannister columns and other raiders as well. That boded well for Robb, who hoped to use the chance to defeat the Kingslayer and then, with full strength, turn upon Lord Tywin.

But he was getting ahead of himself, first he had to determine how best to defeat the Kingslayer's host. He had been hopeful, when he heard that Ser Brynden was leading the Rivermen host in the east, that the Vale was coming to aid them as well, but it turned out that he had resigned his position in the Vale, serving Aunt Lysa, when she refused to send aid to her kin. He would have to defeat the Lannister host with his Northmen and the Rivermen only.

Which was why, in his command tent, Robb was discussing with his commanders the best way to defeat the Kingslayer, and almost all of them had different view.

"The Kingslayer will try to besiege Harrenhal", Lord Karstark said, "it would be the better strategic option for him, it would allow him to monitor the Ruby Ford and the Riverlords host. We should march on it as well, break the Lannister siege, throw the Riverlords onto our side fully."

"The boy won't besiege Harrenhal", Lord Bolton said in his soft cold voice. "He has experience in battle, but not war, in combat, but not command, you mistake him for his father. He fights with his sword, not his head, he will march on Ser Brynden."

"Didn't King Robert name him Warden of the East?" Lord Helmann Tallhart asked, "he most have some measure of command ability."

Lord Roose dismissed him. "During Robert's Rebellion, the only kill he made was of the King himself, he fought no battles. During the Greyjoy Rebellion he was either with King Robert, who had the command, or with the Royal Family in King's Landing, again, far from command. He was named because Robert's wife said so, that is all." Lord Roose moved the Lion piece that represented Jaime Lannister on the map against the Fish head piece that they were using to represent Ser Brynden. "We should use that opportunity, force the Ruby ford against the no doubt pitiful rearguard he leaves, if any, and then take his rear whilst Ser Brynden holds the line."

_That is a sound plan_, Robb thought, but he looked to the GreatJon, his other main commander who had not given his view yet. "I would agree with Lord Bolton", the giant of a man said. "take the Kingslayer, then, with Ser Brynden's added forces and those of Lady Whent, march against Lord Tywin, with the Lion hosts destroyed, no one will truly be able to stop us from advancing on King's Landing."

"Lord Tywin will not stand against us if we defeat Jaime", Lord Galbart Glover said. "He will fall back, pillaging as he goes, he knows that in the Riverlands, we will have the advantage."

At this point Robb cut in, to his mother's approval he saw, since he had to have his own authority on the matter and things were getting too far ahead. "My father once told me that to plan too far ahead in war was to fail", he interjected as Lady Maege Mormont made to reply to Lord Galbart. "First we take the Lannister host under the Kingslayer, then we see what Lord Tywin does." The Lords nodded, and Robb leant on the table, determined to see the best course of action. "We can reach the Ruby Ford before Ser Jaime if we march now until sundown, that shall be our first course of action as I want to have the option of going forward or back. However, when we arrive, I want to camp hidden in the woods alongside the Ford, I want no clue given to Ser Jaime that we are there."

"And what about after then?" Lord Karstark asked, "our options would appear to be Harrenhal or Ser Brynden, to which do we march?"

Robb looked at the map and traced his finger along it. "Both", he declared, to the apparent shock of his lords. "If the Kingslayer marches on Ser Brynden, then I shall lead the horse against him, in the meantime Lord Karstark", Robb said to the Lord of Karhold, "you shall lead the foot to Harrenhal to secure it, and catch any stragglers that come from the East once the Kingslayer has been smashed. If he decides to besiege Harrenhal, then we march with our full strength against him." His lords nodded and left at Robb's dismissal, he had made his decision and now there was no turning back for him. Only his mother remained behind, and, as soon as they were alone she hugged him tightly.

"You lead well my son", she said releasing him and smiling at him, "your father would be proud."

"You think I made the right choice then?" Robb asked, relieved that his mother was proud of him.

"In the same way you are half a Tully I am half a Whent", she told him, and Robb nodded, he knew his grandmother was a Whent. "I could never fault you for going to Harrenhal to save that house." Robb nodded, unsure what he would have done were Riverrun under attack, but he would almost certainly have ridden to save it, even striking a deal with the dastard Walder Frey, his mother had told him about Lord Frey's excesses in demanding tribute for crossing his bridge.

"Then it seems I have battles to prepare for", Robb said.

His mother nodded, "just be sure you remain alive to tell your father of them."

Robb smiled and nodded.

It seemed that Lord Bolton, the man Robb would have thought his most calculating commander was wrong, Robbet Glover had met up with Brynden Tully, who then informed him that Jaime Lannister had divided his men up into five camps stationed at each gate to the Great Fortress of Harrenhal and was trying to starve Lady Whent out, although her banners still flew high above the gates of Harrenhal and the massively thick walls as well. Robb had linked up with Ser Brynden's host at Lord Harroway's Town, where his uncle had taken command of the scouts and prevented Ser Jaime from learning of their presence. Now they were only a few hour's march from the fortress and the kIngslayer knew not that they were there. Robb intended to use that advantage to its fullest as he made to attack his camps. He had called his men to divide the command up amongst his commanders.

"The advantage is ours", he told them, "we shall divide our forces into five as well, but we shall have five thousand men in each group, rather than the three thousand that the Kingslayer has, with surprise on our side I suspect it to be a crushing victory."

"How shall we proceed then My Lord?" The GreatJon asked.

"Uncle Brynden will lead the first attack", Robb explained, "Uncle you will attack and overrun the forces in Ser Jaime's force besieging the eastern gate. We have information that Ser Jaime himself is camped in the next camp over. When he rides against you, I shall lead my men in an ambush of him. At the same time, Lord Umber, Lord Karstark, and Lord Bolton, you shall attack and overwhelm the other Lannister camps", they all nodded, all of them pleased that they had been given the command. "Then let us go", Robb said, "we march to battle now."

Robb now looked from his vantage point at the edge of a wood from where he could observe both the camp that his Uncle Brynden was to attack and the one where Ser Jaime was held. Grey wind seemed to hold just as much anticipation as Robb, but none of the fear as he silently watched. His heart leapt as he saw the Tully banners pour over a hill to the left as Ser Brynden descended upon the Lannister camp, blowing trumpets as loudly as possible to alert Ser Jaime and the other Lannister camps to the attack, he vaguely saw an attempt to form a shield wall, but Ser Brynden's charge of heavy horse broke it before it was fully formed and scattered many of them, only for the Tully foot begin to overwhelm them. He drew his sword silently. Sure enough, before long, a golden armoured figure led a charge out of the next camp, just as he had expected, he led around five hundred horse in a charge to the camp, whilst what seemed like most of the foot rushed on behind him, unable to keep up with the horse. "Now!" Robb called and his horsemen, one thousand five hundred of them, outnumbering the Kingslayer three times over, charged out of the woods. Meanwhile, his foot charged towards the Lannister foot. He looked to his right, he could vaguely see, in the distance, the Giant banner of House Umber emerging further down the wood to attack the next Lannister Camp. The Kingslayer's horsemen tried to turn, but even though they managed it a little, they had no momentum when Grey Wind leapt at the first of them, dragging him from his horse whilst scaring the Lannister knights' horses to scatter, where they were easy pickings for Robb's horse.

_This is no battle_, Robb thought as he deflected a strike from a Lannister knight before cutting his arm off at the elbow, followed swiftly by his head. _This is a slaughter._ Sure enough, only two more knights confronted Robb in this part of the battle, and both quickly fell before him, one to a sword thrust through his unprotected side and the other to Robb's sword being buried in his chest all the way to the hilt. It was jammed so far in, that when he pulled it out, he pulled the knight off his saddle and he fell off Robb's sword, landing in the dirt with a crash. Robb looked over and watched as the Kingslayer was knocked from his horse by men of his personal guard. "With me!" He yelled and he led his men in an arc, around the back of the Lannister foot who had fought his own foot to a standstill. A charge in the rear broke them, Robb himself cutting down several more men with ease.

He looked over at the Tully attack, and saw that the Lannister camp was up in flames and that a messenger was approaching. "Ser Brynden wishes to inform you that he has defeated the Lannisters at his camp."

The other messengers arrived swiftly, one after the other. The only one who had had some semblance of difficulty was Lord Karstark, for the Lannister camp had successfully formed a shield wall upon his approach. But a sally out from the Whent garrison took it in the rear and broke them.

The battle was won, along with Ser Jaime more than a hundred highborn prisoners had been yielded and his host had been almost completely destroyed.

Robb raised his sword and cheered with his men, as Grey Wind, his muzzle dripping with blood and gore, howled at the darkening sky. News of this victory would give Tywin Lannister pause, and Robb was well on his way to saving his father.


	14. Jasper IV

Jasper was waiting solemnly just inside the gate of Storm's End for his father's body to arrive. His father had determined not to be buried in King's Landing but in Storm's End, the castle of his birth and Jasper would be the one to inter him in the earth. Everyone was in black, from Ser Courtnay and Arya to the stableboys and cooks, everyone of them had put down their tasks for the day and was waiting for the casket bearing the first Baratheon King to pass through the raised portcullis. The gods seemed to be marking the day as well, for a constant deluge of rain was drenching the courtyard, no one complained, not even Arya, they all waited patiently for his father to come, and for that Jasper was grateful. Arya had had to smack him over the head with his own scabbard two days ago, for he had learned that his elder brother Joffrey was not coming, nor was his mother, he had started to smash up one of the rooms but Arya beat some sense into him. Renly had not been heard of and Stannis could not come for the burial, apparently there were troubles on Dragonstone that required his attention, but he had sent Shireen with her uncle, Axell Florent to observe, the proceedings. Shireen was on his right hand side, with Arya on his left. Shireen had not known her uncle well, but she was saddened by his loss all the same. Some of the bannermen of the Stormlands, as well as many knights, had come to bid farewell to Robert. Bryce Caron, Rolland Storm, Guyard Morrigen, Balon Swann and others as well, all come to pass on their farewells to their king.

One of the knights accompanying the casket was Ser Hugh of the Vale, the former squire of Lord Arryn, who Beric had unseated in the tourney of the Hand. Jasper had always wondered if Lord Stark had gotten around to talking to him, he made a mental note to speak to Ser Hugh once the formalities were done. He would ask about the suit of armour and how the recently knighted boy could afford it. He would also recommend that the boy get a squire of his own, for his armour was fastened incorrectly, in battle that would be fatal.

The casket arrived and all heads bowed simultaneously. The knights bearing black banners that companied it all dismounted and bowed their respects to Jasper, who acknowledged them before placing his hand upon the glass, which was the closest he would get to touching his father again. He nodded, not wanting to delay and the casket was taken to the prepared burial site. As it was lowered into the earth, the High Septon, who had accompanied it, blessed it and prayed for the soul of Robert, a prayer that Jasper joined in himself, adding in a verse to the only goddess who had truly had his worship, Elenei. The party then silently marched to the great hall of Storm's End, where a last feast for Robert, with a primary dish of boar as he had requested in his last letter, would be held and Jasper would have to speak out about his father in a last speech.

The meal was both respectful and yet not outrageous, most of the guests came up to Jasper to offer their condolences, but also happily ate and drank in memory of Robert. When it was done, everyone looked to him. So he got up, cleared his throat and began his speech.

"My father, he did not die in the most graceful way for someone addressed as "your grace" should. Being gored by a rampaging boar due to being too drunk is not a song to be sung by the minstrels in recognition of great deeds. In his last years he ate too much, drank too much, whored too much, was fat, had no interest in running his kingdoms, leaving that to others, was irresponsible with money, was obsessed with vengeance for a past slight and was overall, not what you would consider the best of kings." People looked on in alarm, he knew that they were thinking that it was not proper to slander someone who had just died, but Jasper needed them to bear with him. So he continued. "However, let us not forget his greatness in earlier life, this is the man who won three battles in a single day at Summerhall, this is the man who slew Rhaegar Targaryen in the raging waters of the Trident, this is the man who brought an end to the reign of the Mad King who filled all with terror, this is the man who tore down the three hundred year old Targaryen dynasty, this is the man who forced Balon Greyjoy to kneel at Pyke, this is the man who gave us seventeen years of peace!" He paused for effect, "slightly interrupted by the Greyjoys but fuck them anyway", there was a smattering of laughter at that, for which Jasper was glad. "So I will ask everyone here to raise their glasses, to the first Baratheon King. To King Robert!"

"TO KING ROBERT!" Everyone echoed, downing their drinks before applauding Jasper's speech as he retook his seat.

The feast ended shortly afterwards and Jasper, remembering what he had planned to do, sought out Ser Hugh, finding the plain looking knight leaning against a pillar not far away. "Ser Hugh", he called out and the knight turned to him.

"My prince", he said solemnly, bowing his head.

"Walk with me Ser Hugh", Jasper said, indicating for Ser Hugh to join him, which the new knight did. "I was wondering Ser Hugh", Jasper said, "where did you get the silver for your armour, it could hardly be a cheap set, a suit that quality?"

"Lady Arryn left me some silver my prince", Ser Hugh replied, and based upon his lack of movement in his face, and the lack of a tremor in his voice, he was telling the truth.

"Did she say why?"

Ser Hugh's eyebrows furrowed in thought. "No", he said slowly, "I do not believe she did."

"Well did you do anything for her?" Jasper demanded, rather inappropriately for someone in his position, and given why they were all here.

"I did fetch something for her", Ser Hugh replied, finishing the wine in his hand. "It was from a Lyseni merchant, I simply handed her some parchment and then got a small bottle in return." He then turned to Jasper fully, "if you will forgive me my prince", Hugh said solemnly, although he was clearly insulted by Jasper's lack of respect for his position. "I was only to stay for the first part of the funeral, I should return to the Vale." As the knight left, Jasper pondered what he had said. Did Lysa Arryn have something to do with her husband's death. It was only after Ser Hugh had vanished from sight, that he remembered he had not told him about his need for a squire, or asked if Lord Eddard had asked him something similar. Maybe he would send Lord Stark a raven the next day just in case.

Later, after had Jasper retreated to his chambers, lying on the bed staring at the canopy of it doing nothing. He wasn't thinking, he wasn't breathing, he wasn't trying to do anything, he was just… there. Then there was an unexpected knock at his door. "Enter", he called. The door opened and Arya came in, which surprised Jasper greatly. "What are you doing here?" He asked.

"I wanted to see if you were okay", Arya said, in a voice that sounded very unlike Arya.

"Are you?" Jasper asked in reply, "this isn't like the Arya I know."

"I haven't lost my father", she pointed out, sitting on the bed. Jasper sat up and swung his legs of so they were sitting next to each other. "I don't know how you are feeling, but I want you to be okay. You are my friend."

Jasper smiled and placed his hand on her leg. "I thank you Arya, for your concern, but I will be fine. I just need some… time."

Arya hugged him, which surprised Jasper so it was a few seconds before he hugged her back, holding her warm body close to his own. He kissed her cheek when she pulled away and, although she made a show of wiping it off with her sleeve, she smiled and did not complain. _Progress_, Jasper thought.

"Well time may be what you don't have", Jasper and Arya jumped as Beric barged into the room. "This just came from King's Landing", he held up a letter stamped with the Royal Seal. Jasper sighed, he could not be dealing with his brother now, his brother who had not even deigned to come to their father's funeral.

Jasper opened and read the letter.

_Jasper_

_I am writing to you so that you may come to King's Landing and, as sworn Lord of Storm's End and the Stormlands, swear fealty to the King, Joffrey Baratheon, first of his name, King of the Andals and the First Men, Lord of the Seven Kingdoms. This is absolutely essential, we need your support now more than ever, Robb Stark marches south and Renly has raised the banner of rebellion in Highgarden, wedding Margaery Tyrell to press his claim on the throne._

_We need you now my son, please, come swiftly._

_Your mother_

_Cersei Lannister, Queen Regent_

Jasper had to re-read the letter multiple times before he understood what was written there in the least. Renly raising his banners was a surprise, but with eight other constituent regions to contend with, even the Reach was no threat. But what Jasper did not understand is why Robb was marching south, had Lord Eddard summoned him, and if so for what reason, where was he, his mother had not said where he was. What reason was there for him doing so? "Beric, those knights who accompanied my father's body", he looked at his sworn shield, "they came from the capital didn't they?"

"Yes Jasper, they did", Beric replied.

"Bring them here", Beric nodded and left. Arya looked at him, questioningly. "My mother says that your brother is marching south, but she did not say why, I would have answers before I leave for the capital."

"Robb is marching south?" Arya asked.

Jasper nodded, "with a strong host too."

Beric returned after a short silence and Jasper stood up to question the knights. "I have only one question and I ask you to answer it truthfully. Why is Robb Stark marching south?" The knights looked at each other uncomfortably before one of them spoke up. "Have you not heard my prince. Lord Stark has been arrested for treason, he tried to steal the throne."

"WHAT!" Jasper roared. "Firstly, I don't believe that, secondly, why on this good earth was I not told!"

"We do not know my lord', another knight said, 'we just assumed you were."

"Well I was not and now I have questions, questions that must be answered. Ready your horses and equipment. Beric send word to the kitchens and rally another dozen knights, we ride for the capital at dawn."

"That would not help anyone my lord", it was the maester of Storm's End, Varwyn, a middle aged greying man with a pointed brown beard. "This letter just arrived. Lord Stark has been executed on the steps of the Great Sept of Baelor."


	15. Tyrion II

Tyrion sat at the small council chambers, deeply concerned. The news sprouting from across Westeros was dire indeed, in the Reach, Renly had proclaimed himself king with the support of the Reacher Lords by marrying Mace Tyrell's daughter Margaery. Tyrion was not surprised that Mace agreed to that, for the Lord of Highgarden had always sought his blood on the throne, and through Renly he got both the chance for that, but also the chance to be Hand of the King, for Renly did not have Tywin in that position. The Northerners, following the rash execution of Ned Stark, had declared their independence from the Iron Throne with their great victory. At Harrenhal, Robb Stark had arrived in time to repel his brother Jaime, who led the advance Lannister host from the Westerlands, keeping him hostage and routing his army. Two of House Tully's strongest Bannermen, the Mallisters and the Freys, upon hearing of the Northern victory had marched south to help Riverrun and with their armies outside it, Tyrion's father could not besiege it effectively without the risk of losing his army, for Jason Mallister was a seasoned commander. The other River Lords had also joined the northerners with their hosts, the Brackens and Blackwoods had set aside their differences for now, the Whents held their ground outside Harrenhal and the other forces were mobilising at either Riverrun or Harrenhal to continue the war. It seemed the Stark boy had a mind for warfare, for with those two fortresses held, Tywin had to retreat to the Golden Tooth or risk losing his army, but he was burning the Riverlands as he went, determined to punish them for their treason. These defeats were setbacks, but Tywin was still determined that he could win the war for them, or at least that was hinted at in his first letter, he had also said that a second raven would be coming with further instructions.

However, it was more than a simple war of vengeance. At the behest of his bannermen and with the support of the Riverlords, who placed themselves under Northern suzerainty, the Northerners were attempting to secede from the Iron Throne and establish their own independent kingdom.

Unfortunately, in King's Landing, the situation was worsening bit by bit, one event at a time. First the rash execution of Ned Stark, which not only guaranteed a continued war in the Riverlands, upon the steps of the Sept of Baelor, had tainted the beginning of Joffrey's reign. Already he as being called godless and a heathen and the smallfolk were turning against him. When Joffrey had ordered that the Gold Cloaks arrest those declaring such things, they had been torn apart by fanatical mobs, only the High Septon was able to calm them down, but Joffrey had been forced to issue a public apology and donate gold to the faith, gold they would need to fight the war. Now Joffrey was in a foul mood which made him unpredictable, which made the efforts of the council harder. The second blow to the prestige of the King was when he foolishly dismissed Barristan Selmy, who stormed from the Throne Room to the laughter of the rest of the Kingsguard. Tyrion had privately hoped that Ser Barristan would cut them all down, for apart from Ser Arys Oakheart, they were all unworthy of their cloaks. But now there was a precedent for the Kingsguard to be dismissed. Not only that but the Hound who, although a skilled fighter, was not a knight, was given the cloak and Jaime had been named Lord Commander. Whilst he was a skilled fighter, he was not the leader Ser Barristan was, and Ser Barristan had not been the only one to pick up on the fact that the Kingslayed had taken command of those who were to defend the King. Or he would have done, had he not been rotting inside Harrenhal dungeons. The news of the near total defeat of Jaime's host had sent terror throughout the Red Keep. Joffrey had flown into another rage and only the presence of Sansa's Direwolf had kept her safe from his wrath, although Lady had to be leashed at all times from now on, only when accompanying Sansa in the Red Keep was she allowed some semblance of freedom.

Tyrion hoped that those instructions did not involve the Stormlander hosts, because Jasper had not yet openly called his banners to him to prepare for war, instead he had sent a raven demanding an explanation of Lord Stark's arrest and death, heavily hinting that his support would depend upon a good answer. That letter had angered Cersei, she had ranted for a good ten minutes about how Jasper should not question her and how he should support his brother, who was the true king. _If she keep emphasising that Joffrey is the "true" king,_ Tyrion thought to himself whilst she was saying this, _people are going to start suspecting that he isn't._ However, he understood the necessity. With their father trapped in the Westerlands by the River and Northern lords, Jasper controlled the only host capable of interposing themselves between Renly and King's Landing.

As he was thinking this, Tyrion made his way to the small council chambers, where the future of the city and family would be played out.

He entered to see that his dear sister was still in tears at the thought of Jaime rotting in a Harrenhal cell, the other councillors looking rather embarrassed by the actions of the Queen Regent. Also present was Lancel Lannister, whom Cersei had appointed Master of Coin in the place of Littlefinger, a poor substitute to manage the treasury, but there were few better with gold dragons than Littlefinger, and certainly none that were known were in the capital, Tyrion hoped his father's ravens would provide the knowledge that was needed for this perilous situation.

As Tyrion took his seat in the chamber, Cersei began, stifling her tears and still trying to sound regal. "Varys, you may read the message."

Varys nodded and opened the scroll. "Lord Tywin hereby appoints…" he paused and everyone looked at him, "his son Tyrion to serve as Hand of the King whilst he fights the war. He says that we must secure Jasper's loyalty and army and for us to worry about Renly whilst he deals with Robb Stark. He states that he dealt several minor defeats to the Riverlords that reduced their forces, and is already planning his retribution against them and the Northerners for the failed battle of Harrenhal."

Tyrion had barely recovered from the shock of his appointment enough to hear the rest of the letter. "What are the casualty rates for that battle Varys?" He asked the master of whispers. He did not mention the appointment for he knew he would be drawn into a dispute with Cersei over whether or not he was the right person for the position. And, with Renly on the march and Robb Stark in ascendance, time was the one thing that they could not waste.

"My little birds say that the Northern host descended upon your brother's in surprise, they completely routed your host whilst barely suffering themselves", Tyrion nodded with closed eyes, he would see his brother released from that pit at some point.

"We need to get started", he said suddenly, for he had caught sight of his sister's eyes and she was clearly about to question his appointment, but he would not have his power stripped from him as soon as he got it, he would prove to his father that he was a Lannister. "The City Watch must be raised and a new commander found, I want a list on my desk by tomorrow morning, and no corrupt officers either", he said, and Varys nodded solemnly. "I need reports on supplies, food, weapons, all of it so that we can have an inventory drawn up. The smiths must get to work making weapons, spears, axes swords. Renly is on the march from Highgarden and I want this city readied by the time they get here." The councillors nodded and left the room, Tyrion following them before his sister could begin to demand that he show her lenience.

However, just outside the room, Varys was waiting for him. "My lord, these two messages are to be given directly to you." Tyrion nodded and took them, one was from his father and the other from Jasper, based on the seals.

When he got to his tower, he opened the one from Jasper.

_Dear Tyrion_

_I hope this raven finds you in good health, I know the capital can be treacherous after the ascension of a new king. How is my brother by the way, I bet he has already been bragging about his achievements whilst sitting on that ridiculous chair hasn't he? My brother will be my brother I suppose, and in this time of war it would not do to dwell on his failings, which I do not have enough ink to cover even in passing. _

_However, I still need an explanation Tyrion. Arya is demanding every day that I do something about her father, and it is for that reason that I will soon ride for the capital. If I do not get an explanation when I arrive, I will leave once more and leave King's Landing to its fate. I do not wish that to be the case, but do not call my bluff here Tyrion, for your sake, my mother's and my brother's. I also want to say that, should you feel that Tommen or Myrcella are in danger in the capital, Storm's End will remain a haven for them should you wish to send them here. _

_Please Tyrion, when I arrive give me an explanation that will allow me to defend my brother as my king, but I will not fight for Aerys the third._

_Jasper Baratheon, Lord of Storm's End, Lord Paramount of the Stormlands._

Tyrion put the letter down and sighed. He knew Jasper would be like Stannis, determined to fight for justice in every way. Tyrion would, if he could not come up with a definitive excuse, explain what happened at the Sept and, if necessary, beg Jasper to assist them, for they would need his army to stop Renly.

With increasing trepidation, he opened the letter from his father.

_Tyrion_

_Despite what I said in my official letter to the council, the main priority for you right now is to bring this boy king to heel. Thanks to his rash execution of Ned Stark, we now have a major rebellion in the north and south of the Kingdoms that we must crush before they get out of control. _

_Aside from that, of the utmost importance is that Jasper side with us, should he not, then I will not be able to help the Capital, I am too far away. _

_The future of our family will be decided in these next few months. We either create a dynasty that will last a thousand years, or we collapse into nothing, as the Targaryens did._

_Tywin Lannister, Lord of Casterly Rock, Lord Paramount of the Westerlands, Shield of Lannisport, Warden of the West and Hand of the King_

Tyrion agreed with his father's assessment, and only hoped that he could do well enough in the coming war to make sure that it was his father's former suggestion of the fate of their family that came to pass, not the latter.

_A/N: Okay, so we reach the end of GoT, roughly. At any rate this is where I shall be ending the first section of the story. But do not fear, having read numerous attempts at the "trueborn son of Robert Baratheon" stories, I know that the most irritating thing is when the stories reach this sort of point and then stop. However I should be able to post the next chapters of this story this week, probably not tomorrow, but maybe even then. _

_On another note, thank you for sticking by me so far, and I hope you continue to read. _

_P.S: In reply to the question posed by the guest reviewer, you shall have to wait and see…_


	16. ACOK Jasper I

_Against a backdrop of incest, treason and murder the War of the Four Kings has begun._

_Joffrey Baratheon, following the death of his father Robert, now sits upon the Iron Throne, but following the beheading of Eddard Stark, two enemies have revealed themselves. In the south, the king's uncle Renly Baratheon marches from Highgarden with the largest army of all the Kings, determined to stake his own claim on the throne with the support of House Tyrell. In the North, Robb Stark, seeking vengeance for his father and having won a stunning victory over the loyalist House Lannister outside the legendary castle of Harrenhal, now fights to free the North from the shackles of the Iron Throne. Meanwhile, in the west, an old, opportunistic foe of the King's house sees the chaos as a chance to make war anew._

_As battles rage and intrigues advance, the players and the pawns all move across the board, but it may yet be up to the winds of fate to decide who wins, and who dies…_

Jasper looked over the reports worryingly. The Marcher Lords had sent him word that in the Boneway and the Prince's Pass, there were Dornish hosts mobilising and they would soon be ready to fight. He rapidly penned a letter to Prince Doran, requesting to know why the forces were mobilising and what his intent was. He did not expect to receive a reply, but if he did, it would be beneficial to his plans. Maester Varwyn had persuaded him against riding immediately to the capital as he had originally planned, since he had first to receive his lords and extract oaths of fealty from them, that way he could be guaranteed that they would be loyal to him in the event that Renly, their former lord, invaded from the Reach. Renly was not a strategist, so Jasper did not expect that he would, but he had Randyll Tarly serving him, and that man was as good a battle commander as there was. He then sent further letters, telling the Marcher Lords to mobilise too and to be prepared in case of a Dornish incursion. However, Jasper did not suspect that it would be soon, for Prince Oberyn Martell was still in Sunspear, Jasper did not believe the Dornish would march without their Red Viper to lead them, but it never hurt to be cautious.

Then his door opened and Jasper looked over his shoulder to see Arya flanked by Heward and Wyl enter the room. Jasper had extracted oaths from them not to act against him unless he acted against Arya, as such he allowed them to keep their swords on their hips. He sighed though, because he knew exactly why Arya was here. "When will we be going to King's Landing?" She demanded of him. "You said we would be gone already, you promised me justice for my father."

"I never promised justice I promised answers", Jasper corrected her, "I will be going in two days with three hundred riders, I will find out why Joffrey did what he did." Jasper got up and stood before her. She had grown a lot since coming to Storm's End, and she was now thirteen, so it made sense that she was now taller than she was previously. He gestured to her sworn shields and they left the room, giving the betrothed couple time alone. "Arya", he said when the door shut, putting his hand on her shoulder. "I do not know why Joffrey killed your father, I do not believe it was that your father tried to steal the throne. I will discover the truth, that I promise, but I need you to be patient, if you are not, then worse things could happen." He took a breath and then told her the crux of his point, "it is for that reason that I am leaving you here whilst I go to the capital."

He did not have to wait long for her response. "WHAT, WHY?!"

"Because if you came with me", Jasper explained patiently, "I cannot trust you not to shove Needle into Joffrey's arse, much as I want it there, he is the king." He took a pause before adding, "besides, if I brought you to the capital, you would never be allowed to leave, instead you would remain as a hostage, and Nymeria would likely be killed. I suspect that Lady will already have been killed as well."

"But-"

"No buts Arya" Jasper said with a tone of finality in his voice, "we do not have the time required for buts, I need you to remain here, safe and secure." He did not say it, but he had been close friends to the Starks for years, and if he lost Arya, he would never forgive himself, no more than Robb would fogive him. "Arya", he said again when she did not reply. "Give me your word that you will stay here.£

Arya seemed conflicted, but she finally gave in. "I swear I will stay here whilst you are in the capital."

"Thank you", he said with relief. "We have time for one last training session before I go if you want", he added, and when Arya smiled he got up and went down to the courtyard to see just how good Arya had become.

The clatter or wood on wood filled Jasper's ears as he sparred with Arya. She favoured speed in her style which was why she used two blades, a shortsword in her left hand, which was more powerful, and Needle in her right with which to land pinpoint attacks on the enemy. . He jumped back to avoid a thrust from Arya's practice blade and then brought his own down upon hers. It did not knock it out of her hand as he had wanted, but it jarred it towards the ground, giving him enough time to smash his sword down towards her head. Arya used her speed to quickly bring her sword arm up again, Jasper's longsword clashing against her shortsword over and over as again and again he slammed his blade down. Then he planted his foot against Arya's chest and pushed, Arya was sent sprawling to the floor, Jasper's blade at her throat before she could move. "How many times must I tell you Arya", Jasper said to her exasperatedly, "you are a woman and a small one at that", he ignored the venomous glare she shot at him, "you will never beat men my size with strength, speed is your advantage, use it."

"Fine", she growled, just as Nymeria did from the sidelines, "again." Jasper nodded and got back into stance. This time, when he swept at her she dodged to the side and thrust towards him. Jasper blocked the stab with his shield before swinging for Arya's head, she rolled towards him and Jasper, seeing that she meant to rise with a stab at the end of the roll, jumped over her and slashed blindly behind him with his sword. Judging by the sound, he must have hit her own sword. He spun to face her and raised his shield to cover his torso. Arya's eyes raked over him and he knew she was trying to find a weakness. He moved one foot too wide and raised his shield, offering his legs as a target. Arya took them and slashed low. Jasper moved into her swinging circle and slammed his shield into her body, sending her flying backwards and to the floor. He raced after her, eager to take her when she was down again. But it was he who had been tricked, for Arya rolled back to one knee and thrust her sword at his belly. He was just able to block it and tried to stop himself flying forwards whilst he deflected her barrage of blows, just managing to jump backwards and out of her range in time to steady himself for the next attack.

"Better Arya", he congratulated, "very good, you almost hit me there." She did not reply, which was good, for if she had, he would have attacked her mid reply and she would probably not have been able to stop him. They circles each other, both looking for the chance to strike, Jasper looking into her eyes, waiting for some uncertainty there, but it did not come. That was one thing Arya earned credit for in her fighting, she was never uncertain, or at least it never came across, and that was half the fight won already, as Ser Barristan would say. Deciding to see if she would remember what he had told her at the end of the last bout, he gripped his shield tightly and charged with it straight at her. When she hunched down to try and stop him, he halted and smashed her sword three times, saying "No! No! No!" As he did so. 'What did I say last time Arya, speed not strength!" It was then that he had to stop on account of the pain in his belly where Arya had just jabbed him with her shortsword, and Jasper was glad she did not use Needle, that would have been painful.

"And you talk too much." She had a look of triumph on her face that Jasper did not like, but he could not fault her trap.

Jasper laughed as he dropped his training blade in mock surrender. "Do that in a real fight and you will win", he told her, reaching out and gripping her shoulder tightly, looking into her grey eyes with his blue ones, "most people will look at your size and judge you inferior, they will charge like I did, if you do that again, the fight is yours."

"Thank you", Arya replied, grinning widely. Jasper grinned back as he stood, holding out his sword for Devan to take and pack away, for he would not need a training sword in King's Landing.

Once they were alone again, Jasper returned his hand to her shoulder, but with a much more gentle touch. "Now I know you have already promised to stay in the castle", he began, hoping not to anger Arya, "but I also need you to take care of yourself inside it, this is not King's Landing, but Renly was lord here for seventeen years, there may be some here who are still loyal to him, and they will use you to get to me, so be careful."

"I will be", she replied and she sounded earnest, Jasper smiled and cradled her face in his hand, rubbing her cheek with his glove-clad thumb. Then he leant down and kissed her forehead swiftly.

"My lord."

Ser Cortnay was approaching him with Edric by his side and the twenty riders including Beric, who would be riding with him to the capital as his brother commanded. "Everything is packed my lord, all the supplies and weapons you requested for the journey along with the spare horses and all other items on your inventory list."

"Thank you Ser Cortnay", Jasper replied smiling. "Will things be okay here whilst I am gone?"

"It will be no problem my lord", he replied jovially.

Jasper beckoned him over to one side. "I would also like you to be on the watch", he said quietly, so no-one else could hear, "tell no-one of what you are doing, but be alert, there may still be those loyal to Renly in the Castle and they may try to act whilst I am gone."

"I will keep my eyes and ears open my lord", Ser Cortnay replied.

"Thank you Ser Cortnay", Jasper said again, before turning to the others present and saying. "Prepare to leave, in one hour we ride for the capital." They all nodded and departed as Jasper left to change from his sweaty, reeking training clothes and into something better or the ride to King's Landing.


	17. ACOK Arya I

_Okay, so here is Chapter 2 of ACOK and hopefully the answers to some of your questions,_

_On a side note, next chapter introduces a new POV from one of my favourite characters of the series (who was not in the TV show, much to my annoyance, although hopefully he will still be put into it). Metaphorical cookies and an honorary mention at the start of the next chapter to the first person to guess who it is._

She was bored, she was confused, and she was angry. Jasper had left her alone in Storm's End whilst he rushed off to the Capital. It was _her_ father that Jasper went to get justice about, hers! Not his! But instead of allowing her to come along and help seek justice for herself, he had ordered her to remain here. But what if he did not come back? What would happen then? Would she be carted off to King's Landing, or would she be held here, or would it be like her father and she would lose her own head to Ice, which had been wrongfully stolen from her father and then used to kill him. She turned over on her bed to look out of the window at the darkening sky, it did not look like there would be a storm tonight, which was good, she did not like the storms here. Maybe after she married Jasper she would get used to it, but as of this moment, she did not like them. _There it is_, she thought, marrying Jasper. When the betrothal had been made for her by her father she had been furious and, whilst she considered Jasper a friend, she had no inclination to marry him, she hated marrying, hated the idea of wearing a dress and looking pretty, especially considering she wasn't pretty at all, _Arya Horseface, Lumpyhead_, the names came back to her in these moments, and she had to consider what it was that made Jasper like her, not only that, but he had kissed her, several times, and willingly. She had thought kissing would be disgusting, like having leeches attached to your face, but every time Jasper had kissed her, he had been gentle, soft, like a light refreshing breeze concentrated where his lips were. But why, he had beautiful girls like Sansa seeking him out and asking for his marriage, and yet he stated that he wanted her, Arya Lumpyhead, above all of them.

Arya got out of her room, deciding she needed some air, and headed straight for the roof. Of all the places she had been in Storm's End, it was here, the roof of the main tower where she felt safest, where she felt the most free. However, when she got up there, she encountered Jasper's half-brother, Edric Storm, he was leaning over the battlements next to the lookout, letting the wind hit his face. She poked him in the back playfully, grinning at him when he turned around. "Arya", he said in greeting and he turned back to the countryside of the Stormlands. The lookout respectfully moved away so that they could speak in private. "What brings you up here?"

"The privacy", she replied, "I like that up here."

"I am the same", Edric nodded in agreement looking out over the land, the forests and hills.

Arya joined him and then said, "what's that?" She pointed at some dust that was moving along the road towards the capital.

"That will be one of the lords of the Stormlands", Edric replied and he squinted down. "I can't see which one, but Ser Cortnay summoned some of them here in order to keep them loyal and so they won't join Renly."

"Why would they join Renly?" Arya asked, Renly was an idiot, according to Jasper, he had described Renly as being like her sister in a way, with a childish view on the world and it's affairs, he didn't sound like the sort of person that someone would be loyal to.

"Renly was their lord for seventeen years", Edric explained, "some may have some… unfinished loyalty to him."

"That would make them traitors", Arya said, her mind was filled with an image of her headless father when she said that and she shook her head, eager to dispel it. Her father was not a traitor, whatever the queen or Joffrey said, she would never believe that, not for one second. Edric seemed to understand, or maybe he just saw she needed comforting so he rubbed her back softly. Arya refused to cry, she would never cry, but she steeled herself.

"Do not worry", Edric said, "Ser Cortnay will make sure that they do not become traitors", he smiled at her. "Let us go and see them shall we?" Arya nodded and they left the roof of the castle and made their way down the cold stone stairwells to the great hall, where Ser Cortnay was greeting a man with red hair and whiskers that were like Ser Rodrik's except they were also red. "That is Ronnet Connington", Edric explained, "his family lost a lot of land when they sided with the Targaryens in my father's rebellion."

"So he is someone to watch then", Arya replied.

"Not necessarily", Edric said, "he had no particular love of Renly". They watched from an alcove as the knight bowed and then headed for the stairs on the other side of the room, clearly he was staying here a while.

"What about Jasper?" Arya asked Edric, "does he like him more than Renly?"

"I would say so", Edric replied, although he sounded rather unsure about the matter, "Renly never visited him at Griffin's Roost, Jasper did, but I don't know how that transpired".

Arya looked over as another party entered the room. These new ones were led by an average sized man with a mop of sandy brown hair and a goatee of the same colour. He wore partial plate with mail along the sleeves and thighs and over it a hauberk of yellow cloth with skulls and what looked like lips on it. "Who are they?" She asked Edric in a slight whisper.

"That is Lord Robert Lonmouth", he said, in an equally quiet whisper. "One of House Lonmouth was a squire to Prince Rhaegar, they no doubt do not support Jasper for being the son of the man who killed him". Arya nodded in agreement, glad that Ser Cortnay had had the foresight to bring them to Storm's End. However, they had barely been greeted and sent along by the Castellan before a third group arrived. Arya guessed that there were at least twenty amongst this group, and a man behind the obvious leader bore a flag which had a sigil of some unicorns, nine to be exact, surrounding some kind of maze, all white, on a black background. "That is the sigil of House Rogers", Edric said, "I can't remember who the lord is but that is definitely their sigil."

"Have they given any reason to not like Jasper?" Arya asked.

"Not that I know of", Edric replied, his brow furrowed in thought, "but I believe Renly hosted them here a lot when he came to stay, that might be the reason that Cortnay brought him in."

"My lady", the two of them jumped and turned around, it was Wyl who was standing behind them, eyebrows raised, "what are you doing here?"

"Nothing", Arya replied, but she winced, she had said that far too quickly.

But Wyl smiled. 'Spying on the guests are we?' He did not wait for an answer before continuing. "Well, I am sure Jasper would not like that would he, come on, let's go", he guided the two of them up the stairs so that, if any more lords did arrive, they would have no idea that they had. But Wyl had brought Nymeria with him. "Ser Cortnay wishes you to keep her chained up so she doesn't terrify the guests", Arya began to interrupt angrily but Wyl held up his hand, stopping her. "You remember what Jasper said, you are to do what Ser Cortnay says whilst he is away, if you want to let Nymeria out, you'll have to write to him." Arya knew that Jasper would agree with Cortnay, so she huffed and walked out, hoping that these new arrivals to the castle wouldn't interrupt her too much.

Later that night, she was proven mistaken about her earlier thoughts, a storm did come, and it was just as large and formidable as was to be expected from a place called, "The Stormlands". Arya couldn't sleep, the noise was too much, both the noise of the storm itself and the noise of the huge amount of rain pounding the shutters and the walls, it sounded as though the gods had picked up the Narrow Sea, put it in a very large bucked and were now pouring it all over this one castle. Arya threw the covers off and got out of bed. She was about to open the shutters and look at the storm but then she realised that the amount of rain pummelling the windows would see her drenched in mere minutes, changing her path, she instead threw a cloak over her night dress and made for the door, her footfalls making slapping noises against the floor. She opened her door with a creak and, after poking her head out to determine that there was no one there to watch over her, she stepped out and, after a brief moment of indecision, she walked left, towards Edric's room, to see if he was awake from the Storm.

However, as she made her way to the boy's room, she heard a noise from behind her like a door opening, she ducked into a nearby alcove and waited for them to pass.

"Damn storms", a gruff male voice spoke as he passed her hiding spot, "it would be that on the night we are to meet there is a massive thunderstorm. This'll make getting home rather a problem tomorrow, muddy roads are the worst kind to ride on."

A gentler voice replied, fading slightly as they got further away from her. "You won't be leaving tomorrow Ser Ronnet, the business we have will take longer than that." Arya poked her head out and followed the two men, curious as to what business they would have here. As they passed the door to Edric's room, a lash of lightning illuminated the two, but it did not last long enough for her to see them properly, but they were fully dressed, this was not some night time stroll for them.

Remembering Jasper's advice never to be alone in a fight, not that she expected there to be one, but it was good advice anyway, Arya quietly opened the door to Edric's room and rushed over to his bed to wake him up. "Wake up, wake up Edric!" She hissed and the boy groaned as he opened his eyes.

"Arya wha-", he began.

"No time", Arya said, throwing him the first cloak she found in the room, "just follow me." Edric groaned but swung his legs out of the bed and steadied himself before pulling the cloak on and following Arya out. "This way", she hissed, beckoning the way that the two men had been going. They rushed quietly along the corridor, Edric still groggy and confused, luckily when they turned the corridor, they saw the other two men turn a corner at the other end. Arya rushed along, half pulling Edric as they slowed down at the other end to see the men had vanished. "They must have gone in one of the rooms", she said and she ran along, putting her ear up against each door and, on the fourth one down, she struck gold. "Here", she whispered and Edric, now more or less awake, placed his ear to it as well. They both listened in on what was being said, although it was clear they had missed some of the conversation already, but Arya couldn't make out who was speaking, not surprising since she didn't know them, but, from the look on Edric's face, he didn't either.

"-here now", a voice said, "so carry on."

"I don't see why we are doing this", another voice, different from the two Arya had heard when she was hiding. "Some of us aren't even in the castle, and those that are, well not all of them are here."

"What are you on about?" Someone asked, "I don't see why you have pulled me out of my bed at this hour, and you don't appear to have a reason." Arya recognised that one as the first person who spoke when she was hiding, the one called Ronnet. Arya assumed it was the first guest she saw, Ronnet Connington.

"So, we shall wait then, we all stayed up this long to decide to wait before actually discussing anything?"

"I did not _stay_ up", Ronnet pointed out.

"We need the beauty", another voice said, "she has the skill in arms and the loyalty for us to prepare our actions, without her, we can do nothing."

"What are you saying?" Ronnet asked.

"Never mind", someone said with a tone of finality. Arya and Edric looked at each other in fear and darted along to the next room, Edric listened before swiftly opening the door and they ducked in. They listened and head the footsteps of many people exit the room.

"What was that about?" Arya asked Edric.

"I have no idea", he replied, "but since I recognised none of those voices, it's clear that they are the guests."

"They are plotting something", Arya said, and Edric nodded his head in agreement.

"We can be glad that Ser Cortnay brought them here then, they can plan here but they can't act under his gaze", Edric replied to her. He yawned and then said, "we should get to bed, we can discuss this more tomorrow."

Arya reluctantly agreed and they both went back to their chambers. Arya wishing now that Jasper were still here, rather than her going with him. Jasper would know what to do.


	18. ACOK Victarion I

_A/N: Okay so here he is, Victarion Greyjoy, the Iron Captain. No one guessed him it seems, but here he is. _

_As a note, I was always rather disappointed at how little a part the Greyjoys played in the early war in both the books and the show, so I have changed the Greyjoy war almost completely. I am justifying this by saying that Balon still wants his crown, but Theon has not yet come home so he must strike somewhere else than the North. _

_Anyway, here it is, Victarion Greyjoy._

Penetrationg the smell of ash, smoke and blood, the smell of the salt water rose from the waves and into Victarion Greyjoy's nostrils as he stood upon a cliff at the western edge of Southshield. Arrayed in front of him, amidst the burning wreckage of the Serry fleet and other ships that the Ironborn had been able to take, sat the Iron Fleet. One hundred of the finest ships in the world, all designed for war and all crewed by the Ironborn, the finest sailors in the world, woe betide anyone who should sail against them and may the Drowned God show them mercy, for Victarion Greyjoy would not. The Iron Fleet was to lead the Ironborn in their resurgence following the defeat of the Ironborn in his elder brother's rebellion almost ten years previously. However, this time the Iron Throne was already in trouble, the Northerners fought for freedom, with his nephew Theon in their ranks, which was why Balon did not sail against the North. Whilst he had all but disinherited his son in favour of his daughter Yara, Balon knew that the Iron Captains may respect him less if he caused the death of his son. Which was why Victarion was leading the Iron Fleet south, past the Westerlands, who had felt the wrath of the Ironborn in the previous rebellion, and onwards towards the Reach, which was also in rebellion and marching towards the capital, leaving the western edge of the region almost undefended, the riches of the western Reach, the Arbor and the Shield Islands were theirs for the taking. The Shield Islands would be the first to fall, by order of King Balon, they would provide a platform from which the Ironborn could sail against the Arbor, Oldtown, or even up the Mander to Highgarden. Victarion, although loathe to use tactics from his other brother, the godless cunt Euron, had sailed out further to sea, using the stars of night to guide him, and then turned inwards towards the Shield Islands, avoiding a sail along the coast which would alert the Reach to their presence.

The tactic had worked, just as it had against Lannisport in the last rebellion, the Reachmen had no idea that the Ironborn were coming and had barely been able to put up any resistance at sea, and at land, those levies who had not been taken by the Lords to fight the Iron Throne, were slaughtered by Ironborn warriors, with only the castles offering temporary resistance before being overwhelmed as well. Blood coated Victarion's axe from the battles at sea and on land, the Iron Price had been paid, the Shield Islands had been bought by the Ironborn.

Victarion looked up as Ralph Kenning, one of his best captains approached him, his armour and blade sufficienty bloodied. 'Lord Captain', he said, panting slightly. "King Balon is on the horizon, he brings near three hundred longships full of reavers to continue the war."

Victarion nodded, strapping his axe to his back, and retrieving his shield. "Tell the captains to clear up the bay", he ordered Ralph, "I want us to be able to present these Islands to our king as he deserves, not as if we have gorged ourselves on Arbor wine." Ralph nodded and rushed off down the cliffs, Victarion himself looked over the bay once more from the cliff he was on, before heading down at a slower pace since he was not needed personally, the captains of the squadron under his direct command were already in neatly ordered formation out at sea, since he had not given the order or them to relax. Other peoples, lesser peoples, might seek to get of the water as soon as possible, but the sea legs of the Ironborn were as good if not better than their land legs, they could stand where others could not, they would happily live on the water, only making the occasional trips to land to reave and trade, trade with iron, not gold. Those same people are the ones who disagree with the Iron Price, at yet, the Iron Price is the one currency that everyone in the world recognises.

As Victarion reached the beach, he saw the longships approaching, the Iron Islands had come, and now they would determine how to act.

They all bowed before Balon, who wore his driftwood crown as he entered Castle Serry, where the most powerful captains had gathered to determine the next move of the Ironborn in this war. Only once Balon had reached the table did they rise from their knees and look at him. "Well done Victarion", Balon said at first looking directly at his brother, Victarion felt a warm feeling at being praised by Balon, after all, it was only his duty to serve, "the Iron Price has been paid here, now we must determine what we shall pay for next". A map of nearby Westeros, stretching up to Lannisport and down to the nearest coast of Dorne, was set upon the table, and all present looked at it to determine the next course of action. "Does anyone have a recommendation for me?" Balon asked, looking at the assembled captains.

"The Arbor my king", said the very recognisable face of Dagmer Cleftjaw, an old friend of Balon, and a man who had accompanied his king on his first reaving to the disputed lands. "The Redwyne's have not declared for Renly and as such, their fleet is still at anchor there. We should destroy their fleet, it is the only one that can presently sail against us."

"A fine suggestion", replied another captain, one of the longship captains as far as Victarion could work out. "If we destroy the Redwyne fleet, the riches of the Arbor will be ready for the taking, just like Dagon Greyjoy of old." Victarion smiled, he knew of Dagon Greyjoy, he was a fine Lord of the Iron Islands. One hundred years ago, during a sickness that crippled the rest of the continent, Dagon led reavers up and down the sunset sea, striking in the North and overrunning the Arbor, bringing gold and women back to the Iron Islands whilst the rest of Westeros could not act against him.

"I disagree my king", said a third captain. "If we strike the Arbor now, that will give the other King Renly time to send a force back to the west and defend the Reach."

"Which is why we should destroy the Redwyne fleet now", the second captain argued, "before a host arrives which it can transport across to defend the Arbor or retake the Shield Islands."

"Or we can use the time we have to strike inland", the third captain disputed the point still, despite the logic in the second captain's argument. "The river Mander passes all the way to the capital of Highgarden, a mighty stronghold, but is currently undefended. We could sail up the Mander and take the castle, giving us an anchor on the mainland with which to exert our influence."

"We are Ironborn", Dagmer declared, "our strength comes from the sea, if you wanted land, you should have stayed at home", other captains jeered the third captain, who apparently lost his nerve at that, which Victarion shook his head at. He had a good argument, but he gave in now, it was lost.

"The idea of a land anchor is not without merit", this was Victarion's niece Yara, who captained her own ship and had the loyalty of other longships. "But Dagmer's point is valid, the sea is our strength, but the two are not mutually exclusive", she pointed at the city of Oldtown in the map. "Oldtown is a good place for us to exert our influence over the Reach, raise the flag of the Kraken over it and we will have control over much of the surrounding area."

"A good suggestion Yara", Balon said and smiled at her, Victarion knew there had never been and Iron Queen before, but Balon was still nurturing her to be his heir, it could be seen in his eyes whenever he looked upon his daughter. Victarion was not sure he would be able to serve Yara as well as he did Balon, he hoped that Theon would bring back enough trophies from the war to cement his own place as Balon's heir, for he would rather serve Theon than Yara, but the look of something bordering on adoration in his brother's eyes told Victarion that it was never a possibility for Balon. "But how about you Victarion?" Balon asked, turning to him from his daughter, "how would you strike next?"

Victarion looked over the map with a slight frown before deciding on what to say. "We have been given three options", he summed up, "Highgarden, the Arbor or Oldtown, all have merits, all have flaws, but I ask why settle with one?" The other captain's looked at him in alarm. "We have made an impact, taking these islands because they knew not that we were coming. That will not happen again, so we should capitalise as much as possible. Highgarden will be too well prepared by the time we reach it, so send longships up the Mander to raid the villages and countryside on either bank. Prepare other longships to sail into the harbour of Oldtown, where the fleet does not have the strength of the Arbor. At the same time, send raiders along the rest of the coast of the Reach and the Arbor too, using the Iron Fleet to protect the longships. I say we take as much territory as we can as swiftly as we can."

The other captains nodded in approval, but more importantly to Victarion, Balon gave his. "It is decided then, as Victarion says we raid the Mander, Dagmer", the old captain stood to attention. "You will take thirty longships and raid up that river, Yara, you will take command of a hundred longships and prepare to launch an assault on Oldtown, raid the coasts around it to draw out the city watch and levies before sailing into the harbour. The rest of you will divide into groups of six and raid either the Arbor or the coast of the Reach, you will all return here at the turn of the moon to deliver what you have bought with iron." Victarion had winced a little at that, but on the inside, so no-one noticed. Balon was allowing his daughter to take Oldtown to give her more credit to sit on the Seastone Chair after him. "Brother", Victarion thrust all disgruntling thoughts from his mind as he looked at his brother and king. 'You will lead the Iron Fleet and smash the Redwyne fleet, do not allow it to harry our reavers." Victarion nodded, already thinking up plans to use against the large and organised Redwyne fleet. "Victarion, Yara, you remain here, the rest of you, ready your ships and men to sail as soon as possible." The captains left the room leaving the Greyjoys alone.

"Father", Yara began and they both looked at her. "Taking land here is all well and good, but what happens when the mainland war ends? Then the might of Westeros will turn against us once more will it not?"

"Yes", Balon replied, "but we will have forced them into accepting our independence before them, this is one advantage we have over the wolf pup", Balon sneered, showing obvious contempt for Robb Stark, but Victarion had a little respect for the boy, only seventeen and he was able to win a major victory against the Lannisters and capture the Kingslayer himself at Harrenhal. "He will have to conquer King's Landing if he wants his independence, if we can destroy the enemy fleets we will be guaranteed ours."

"And the only fleets in Westeros which can match mine", Victarion said with pride, "are the Redwyne fleet, which I will soon send to the Drowned God, and the Royal Fleet, currently stationed at Dragonstone."

"But we mustn't underestimate them", Balon warned, "the Redwyne fleet may not be led by the best of commanders, in Robert's Rebellion, all he did was sit outside Storm's End, but the Royal Fleet is led by Stannis Baratheon." Victarion felt his lip curl at the mention of the one man in Westeros who had beaten him on the waves. "But destroy them, and the mainlanders will have no way of stopping us returning to the Old Way."

"Stannis Baratheon will not get the best of me again", Victarion declared, the next time he met that man in battle, it would be Stannis who would lose his ships and his pride.

Yara nodded in acceptance of the plan before making her own proclamation. "By the time I return here at the moon's turn, Hightower in Oldtown will fly the Kraken Flag."


	19. ACOK Arya II

_A/N: Sorry Blorg13, but I have plans for the Ironborn, so they will be around for quite some time yet._

"Well who else can we trust?" Arya demanded of Edric in a harsh whisper. In the five days since the meeting they had overheard, Edric and Arya had been determined to work out exactly what was happening. So far, no new visitors had arrived in the castle and there had been no new meetings of the group, either that, or they were meeting in a different place than before. They were trying to get around this problem by finding people they could trust, guards and household members, who could help them find out what was going on. They had decided against informing Ser Cortnay of what was happening, since they didn't actually know what was going on themselves, but who to trust with this was a difficult question. The only people whom the two of them were certain would not betray them were the Stark household that had accompanied Arya, but apart from Heward and Wyl, they could not defend themselves well and so she did not want to risk their lives, and until they had more help, Arya would not risk the lives of her two retainers either. Edric had tried to list suggestions, but he did not know whom amongst the guard they could trust to stay silent whilst Jasper was not here, for they all loved Jasper, but few loved him the same way, despite the fact that he had been at Storm's End all of his life, his bastard status reflected on him, and many were upset that he was given preferential treatment despite his bastardy. Arya could not help but think back to Jon, but, as far as she was aware, none of the Winterfell guard thought of Jon that way. _Just another way the North is better than the South_, she thought.

"I don't know", Edric confessed to her, his black hair falling across his face, "but there are surely some of the guards who are able to keep their mouths closed."

"You'd think so wouldn't you", Arya replied, "how many are there?"

"How many what?"

'Guards', Arya told him, "how many guards are there in Storm's End?"

"Oh", Edric replied and he scrunched up his face in thought. Arya clicked her tongue, hoping that he would hurry up. "Around five hundred."

"And you don't know _any_ of them who would be willing to help us?"

"Not for definite no", Edric told her. He took a deep breath. "Look, before we start discussing who amongst us will need to fight, let us just try and find out what is going on, we didn't exactly learn much the other day."

"How?" Arya demanded.

"We pick a guest and follow them tonight", Edric explained, "see if they go anywhere."

"How do we do that?" Arya asked, "we aren't given permission to go to the guest's rooms."

"I'll think of something", Edric told her and she felt a pit open up in her stomach, that did not sound good.

"How is this going to work?" She demanded of Edric as he smeered dirt on her clothes.

"You look a lot like a boy", Edric pointed out, "your hips are still narrow and your tits haven't grown much yet."

"Thank you", Arya muttered in reply.

"Which means we can pass you off as a servant boy", Edric continued, ignoring her, "you find some way to work out one of their rooms and then we return this evening and follow them wherever they go."

"And what will you be doing?"

"Nothing", Edric said. "Now go". Before Arya could ask where to start looking, Edric rushed off. So she made her way to the entrance of the castle to see if there was anywhere to go from there.

She arrived and tried to think back to the day that the guests arrived. She was standing at the staircase to the left when you looked at the door and the guests had gone up the one to the right, so she hurried over to it. "Hey, boy!" Arya turned to see Ser Cortnay looking at her. "We have another guest arriving, be prepared to take their things."

"Yes my lord", she replied and waited behind him looking at the floor, as she had seen servants do at Winterfell. When the doors opened she peeked up to see who came through and was surprised to see what was clearly a woman, wearing heavy armour and a sword at her hip, come through the door and approach Ser Cortnay.

"Ser Cortnay", she said in a half regal voice. "How do you do?"

"Very well thank you Brienne", Ser Cortnay replied with a smile, "if you would like to give your helm and cloak to the boy", he said, pointing at Arya, who bowed, hoping that she looked like a servant, "he will follow you to your room, you will be staying where you usually stay, and the others will be on your corridor."

"Thank you ser", the lady Brienne said and she passed her helm and cloak gently to Arya, who followed Brienne up the same flight of steps she had seen the other guests go up and along several corridors, memorizing the route as she did so she could re-trace it later with Edric. Arya followed the lady to a room three floors up and two corridors down, second door on the left. For someone that Ser Cortnay was bringing to keep an eye on due to their loyalty to Renly Baratheon, she was certainly given a good room, it had a large bed and a window that was like hers except it looked over the land and not the ocean. "Put them on the bed boy", Brienne said with her back to Arya, "I'll put them up later". Arya nodded and did as instructed before leaving the room and rushing off to find Edric.

"You're sure it was this corridor", Edric hissed at her that evening. Arya had found Edric on the roof and had told him of the new visitor Brienne. He told Arya that she was a known warrior lady who loved Renly and hated most men.

"Yes", Arya replied, "it was that door there." She pointed at the door she had followed Brienne through. "Maybe she is not amongst the group we heard", she pointed out, but Edric shook his head.

"They said they were waiting for the beauty", he reminded her, "she is often called Brienne the Beauty as a joke. It must be her."

Then two doors opened and people shuffled out of the rooms. Arya recognised the huge form of Brienne as yet more doors opened. The people greeted each other and hurried off in the other direction, Arya and Edric followed them as soon as they turned the corridor at the other end. This time, when they arrived, they were lucky enough to see the people enter their chosen room so they did not need to listen at the keyholes of every single door. They rushed over quietly and placed their ears by the key hole to listen in.

"I don't see why it was necessary to go this far from our chambers", a tired voice said.

"We can no longer trust Red Ronnet", came another, "we cannot risk him giving up our plans."

"Giving up to who?"

"Jasper's future wife is here, as is his half brother, and the ravens can still fly, we cannot risk Jasper finding out about our plans, if he finds out, we're dead."

"But if we succeed we will be rewarded beyond measure by Renly", came a familiar voice, although Arya could not put her finger on who it belonged to.

"Will we succeed?"

"The plan is in place", another voice this time, "a fire will be started and I will send the guards to deal with it, your household troops will overwhelm Jasper's bodyguard and kill him."

"What about the bastard boy and the girl."

"An inexperienced fighter and, as you put it, a girl, they won't cause any trouble."

"The girl has a wolf."

"That is in chains, it won't be a problem, and if it is, we kill it, simple as that." Arya felt anger rise, whoever these people were, they were planning on killing Nymeria. That would never happen. She swore to herself then and there, that neither Jasper nor Nymeria would die at the hands of these people.

"What if he doesn't return?" Came another voice, "what if he remains at the capital for the siege?"

"Then he will die in the capital and we won't have any problems", Renly has assembled the entire host of the Reach, he cannot lose in battle with that strength."

"Aye, Renly will be victorious, of that there is no doubt, but whether or not Jasper fights in the battle we will make sure he is no threat to the crown upon our lord's head."

There was a round of around six voices saying aye before scrapes were heard and the guests moved to the door. Arya and Edric rushed off back towards the stairs and returned to Arya's room, there they sat and Arya asked Edric about his face. For when the man had mentioned being rewarded by Renly, Edric's face had gone stark white and his eyes had widened. "Who was that man?" She asked him, "the one who mentioned Renly, you obviously recognised him."

"It…it…", he gulped and then looked her in the eye, "it was Ser Cortnay".

"What!"

Edric nodded, "I have known him all my life, I would recognise his voice anywhere, it was definitely Ser Cortnay Penrose, Castellan of Storm's End."

That put a whole different twist on this already. Not only was there a plot to kill Jasper, the man who had kept her safe when her family was betrayed, but a member of the plot was a man who had command over all the guards in Storm's End bar Heward and Wyl, and two cannot beat five hundred, no matter how skilled they are.

"What do we do?" Arya asked.

"We keep quiet about this for now", Edric replied, "we'll need a definite plan before we can move, Ser Cortnay has complete control over the castle until Jasper says otherwise."

"Then we should write to Jasper."

"No, letters can be intercepted", Edric said, "and if they found out about this before Jasper did we would be imprisoned before he learned."

"So what do we do?"

"We try and find a way to stop them ourselves. Take some time", he continued, "try to think of a plan and then we will put the best one we can come up with into place." Arya nodded and went to bed, her mind racing. Whilst Jasper was the brother of the boy who had murdered her father, Jasper had saved her life at the Trident and had saved her again by taking her away from King's Landing, she had to repay him, she would.


	20. ACOK Jasper II

"_There must be some reason!" Jasper all but yelled at his mother and brother, 'some reason as to why I was not informed of Lord Stark's imprisonment'._

"_Do not speak to your king that way Jasper", his mother curtly told him, restraining her own voice whilst Joffrey smirked. _

"_Fine then", he turned to face his mother and then yelled, "give me a reason, one good fucking reason as to why the father of the girl I am promised to was killed without her knowing about his imprisonment."_

"_Enough Jasper", his mother yelled back at him. "You have come here to support your brother, so support him, help prepare the defence of this city." _

Jasper awoke with a gasp, his head throbbing in his bed in King's Landing. It had been a week since he had arrived and every night he had replayed portions of what had happened between himself, his mother and his brother when he arrived. They had refused to answer his questions, which was why he was spending as much time as he cold between siege preparations, which was not much anyway, trying to work out what had happened to make his mother act in such a way. Tyrion had said that Joffrey had been too rash, executing Lord Stark rather than sending him to the Night's but he did not did not give a reason as to why he had to be sent to the Wall in the first place. Jasper had been tempted to leave the city, then and there, but he had promised to find answers for Arya, so he would stay and help defend Joffrey, whilst also finding out what had happened. However, it did mean that he was losing patience with the whole lot of them and was losing sleep because of it. But as much as he wanted the answers to Lord Stark's death, Jasper knew that his priorities had to lie with the city first and foremost, and defeating the army that Renly was leading towards it. Tyrion was doing what he could, but Jasper had been in the city longer than Tyrion, he knew it better and as such Tyrion often acquiesced to his requests and recommendations about the city and how to defend it. Upon seeing the blue light of dawn break through the curtains, Jasper swung his legs out of bed and began pulling on some clothes that were suitable for both training and wandering the streets, for he would be doing both this day.

As was usual in times of war, the City Watch of King's Landing had been tripled in size, from two to six thousand. However, of the original two thousand, Jasper would be willing to say that at least fifteen hundred were corrupt under Janos Slynt's leadership. Then there were the newly raised four thousand, who were mostly in it for the money, food and board. However, they were undernourished and underfed which meant that before they could be trained they had to be fed up to be able to wield the spears and wear the armour that came with the position. Jasper had taken over organising their training, dividing them into groups of five hundred and setting them to work on drills and training under the watchful eye of knights from the Crownlands and the twenty men he had brought with him, but he feared it would not be enough and that they would panic and flee at the sight of the huge army that Renly had brought with him, for they did not know bloodshed, or war, the closest they had come to it would have been the occasional street fight with fists and feet, rather than a swirling mass of men and horses, where death came on the ends of axes and polearms, or under the hooves of horses or the armoured boots of knights.

His mind drifted back to Arya, wondering how she was doing in Storm's End with Edric and Ser Cortnay, imagining her spinning between them both, sword in hand, almost as though she was dancing, the image brought a smile to his face, but he forced it from his mind, not wanting to be distracted by thoughts of his bride to be when he had to concentrate on the city. So he left his room to have breakfast with Tyrion, Beric and Ser Jacelyn Bywater, the new commander of the city watch.

"The new recruits are doing better thanks to the knights", Ser Jacelyn told them over a breakfast of bread and fish, "but I still doubt their ability to fight a battle, particularly against an organised force like the knights of the Reach."

"As do we all", Tyrion replied, wiping his mouth with a piece of cloth. "But we will need them to hold, we will do whatever it takes, what of the gates?"

Jasper had been charged by Tyrion with inspecting the gates, and so it was he who spoke. "They are all strong enough to hold a ram for enough time to allow reinforcements to get to that gate, my main worry is if Renly attacks multiple gates."

"The Wildfire will clear that problem."

"Wildfire?" Beric asked before Jasper could do so himself, Ser Jacelyn also looked confused. "What Wildfire?"

"My dear sister has been having it made by the Pyromancers", Tyrion replied with a slight smile. "We should have enough to use in the catapults that are being made and retain enough to drop on to the rams as they reach the gate."

"That is a horrible plan", Beric replied. "If we drop it on the rams, the fires could spread to the gates and burn them down as well, we might as well open the gate anyway to allow the reachmen in."

"The pots will be no bigger than peaches", Tyrion replied, "we will throw them out far away from the wall so the small amount of fire used will not burn down the gates."

"I must agree with Beric", Jasper replied, he did not think that Wildfire would work, and agreed that it would be detrimental to the defence of the city. "If we put the wildfire into throwing pots, what happens when someone who is shitting themselves picks one up and drops it. Wildfire could lay King's Landing low more effectively than Grandfather did eighteen years ago." Jacelyn's eyes narrowed, he had apparently been present at the sack of King's Landing by the Lannisters at the end of Robert's Rebellion.

"I must agree with Tyrion though", Ser Jacelyn said, moving his one remaining hand to his face to scratch his chin, "without Wildfire we will not be able to hold the city, and no doubt his grace would rather burn the city than lose it."

"Well his grace is a fool", Jasper replied with contempt, "an idiotic fool, what he wants is to kill and skin people for pleasure."

Beric gave a noise of agreement through whatever it was he was eating at the time. Be swallowed and wiped his mouth before asking. "So what do we do today then, we can sit around discussing what has been done all we like, but we must now decide what is to happen today."

"Quite right", Tyrion said in an organised tone of voice. "Ser Jacelyn, you will continue to train the recruits", the commander nodded. "Someone will also need to visit some of the armourers and smiths in the city, we need them to increase their rate of production, and the fletchers too, we need more arrows".

"I can do that", Beric replied, raising his hand.

"Good, and Jasper, you will need to-" they were interrupted by the door bursting open and a servant rushing in, out of breath.

"My lords", he panted, holding up a letter, "news from the Riverlands."

According to reports, Robb Stark had engaged a Lannister host under the command of Ser Addam Marbrand, the host had been the remnants of Jaime's host along with Sellswords and some reinforcements from Tywin's host. Robb had flown his banners in the centre and led northern and Riverlander foot against Addam's frontline, he had been halted but the heavy horse of the north had swung around and smashed the enemy rear, leading to almost the complete annihilation of just over ten thousand Westerlander foot. This meant that, in total, the Lannister hosts had been cut in half in terms of numbers, The flavour of this defeat was only slightly improved by the fact that Tywin was able to repel a riverlander attack on his camp just inside the riverlands, leading to supposedly loses of ten thousand amongst the riverlanders, amongst them half of the strength of House Frey. However, Jasper did not believe that the numbers were that large and that, perhaps, four thousand riverlanders had been killed in the battle of the Golden Tooth. It did not make up for the losses at the Battle of Harrenhal or Ser Addam's loss at the Battle of Acorn Hall.

Jasper had made his way to the throne room at first news of the defeat, for he knew that Joffrey would use this as a chance to torment Sansa Stark as much as possible, and he intended to put a stop to it. Sure enough, as he entered the throne room, he saw Sansa being beaten by Meryn Trant and he roared, "STOP THIS NONSENSE!" The whole room turned to him as he marched straight for his brother. "What is this madness brother?"

"I am punishing her", Joffrey replied, haughtily.

"For what crime, her brother fights the battles not her you half-wit".

"Do not speak to me like that, and she will be punished if I see fit!"

"If you harm her then her brother will harm uncle Jaime", Jasper told Joffrey through gritted teeth, now that Joffrey was king he could no longer punch him in the face to make him see sense. "We owe him quite a bit you know."

"I am king, if Jaime got captured then he has failed and I can do as I like to her."

"Then you should be glad that Jaime is not here", Jasper replied seething with rage at how idiotic and shameful Joffrey was being, he was an embarrassment to their father and their siblings. "I trust you remember what he did to the last king who thought that way." He left the sentence hanging.

"No one threatens his grace in the presence of the Kingsguard", Jasper turned on his heels slowly, eyebrows raised to look at Ser Meryn, who's eyes were narrowed and hand was on the hilt of his sword.

"He is my brother", he replied calmly, "it is my duty to inform him when he is being an imbecile, and you will be silent, Ser, or I will make you so." He turned back to his brother. "I suggest you think about your actions brother, Kings who do as they will do not last for long, history tells us that." Jasper walked over to Lady Sansa and helped her to her feet, escorting her from the room. They went to Jasper's room and he gave her one of his cloaks to cover herself up with.

"Thank you my prince", she replied as she took an offered seat and Jasper passed her a drink.

"It was no problem Sansa", he replied, "and please, call me Jasper."

"Thank you Jasper", she took a sip of the drink she was offered. "Is it true what Ser Lancel said in the hall?"

Jasper raised his eyebrows, he did not recall Lancel Lannister saying anything, so it must have happened before Jasper entered the room. "What did Lancel say?"

"He said that my brother won by turning into a wolf, that he turned his army into wolves and they feasted on the dead", Sansa said, a look of fear and revulsion on her face.

Jasper smiled and sat down. "Sansa, sorcery is nothing but a sauce used to hide the flavour of incompetence. There were no wolves, your brother was simply a better battle commander than Ser Addam Marbrand, that is all."

"I see", she replied, looking grateful that her brother was not the monster described by the incompetent knight. "How is my sister?" She asked suddenly.

Taken aback, Jasper took a few seconds before responding, he had not expected that question. "Arya is fine", he told her, "in fact she is very well, very well and safe, no harm will come to her in Storm's End."

"Okay", Sansa said in reply, and Jasper couldn't tell whether she was happy about that or not, so he decided not to press the subject further.

"You can go back to your chambers now my lady", Jasper told her, "keep the cloak, I have several, and if Joffrey hurts you again, tell me, I will sort him out." Sansa nodded and with her customary graciousness, she left his room for her own.

Jasper took a breath and made his way back to Tyrion, for he never did learn what Tyrion wanted him to do for the defence of the city today.


	21. ACOK Tyrion I

"Renly has more soldiers, more supplies and more knights", Tyrion complained to Beric Storm as they made their way down one of the streets of the capital, evaluating the walls to see if any areas needed repair work before Renly's arrival. "He is moving near the Kingswood so will have lumber to make siege engines and plenty of them, he will have men who are ready to fight, what will we have?"

"Well", Ser Beric replied, "you talk about your brilliant mind more that most Targaryens did about their dragons, even Aerion Brightflame."

"Yes well I can't kill people with my mind can I", Tyrion replied angrily, he needed answers, not jokes. Aerion Brightflame was a Targaryen who drank wildfire because he believed it would turn him into a dragon.

"A pity that, if you could Jasper would be on the throne and our problems would be solved."

"To a degree", Tyrion agreed, wondering just how much easier things would be if his sister had just let Robert put Jasper in her before she fucked Jaime, then this whole war wouldn't have started for Jasper would not have been such an idiot to execute Ned Stark and the Reachmen would not rebel against a well deserving ruler like Jasper.

He was distracted from his thoughts by the sound of a nearby preacher.

"Rotten", he cried to the almost baying crowd. "We are swollen, bloated, foul. Brother fornicates with sister in the bed of kings, and we are surprised that the fruit of their incest is rotten?!" The crowd cheered at that, and Tyrion's stunted view of the preacher was blocked by waving fists. "Yes a rotten king, standing in the way of the true king and prancing down the halls to the tune of a twisted demon monkey!" Tyrion could not suppress a slight laugh at that last one.

"You must admire his imagination", he looked up at Beric who was looking down at him, past his flowing brown hair.

"You do know he is talking about you, don't you?"

"What?!" Tyrion said, looking back at the preacher, who was now listing off the seven gods and saying how each of them in turn was punishing them for the queen's crime of incest. "Me? Demon Monkey?"

"People think you are manipulating the king, that and your sister's supposed incest and you are being blamed for most of the problems."

Tyrion then turned to Beric, realising something. If the knight believed what the preacher was saying then Jasper might try to take the throne, which could not happen, a usurper at this time would bring ruin to the city. "Where did these rumours begin?"

Beric shrugged, "does it matter, when people are hungry they look for someone to blame, and who better than the king himself?"

"Maybe the lord of the Reach who has cut off the food to the city?" He commented.

"Do you think they know who that is?" Beric asked.

"That was a rhetorical question Beric."

They moved on, continuing to inspect the walls. _I do hope that Joffrey doesn't hear those rumours, he would throw Jasper out of the court and our best chance of defeating Renly with him,_ Tyrion thought as they went by the north wall. But all along their journey, there was nothing to suggest that the wall was particularly weaker in one spot than another, which Tyrion was thankful for, since it meant that he would not have to divert precious dwindling resources from somewhere else to the wall.

After the wall, Tyrion and Beric moved on to the alchemists, who were making Wildfire for use in the siege. Beric getting increasingly disgruntled about being away from his charge for more and more time, and Tyrion was thankful that his favourite nephew had such a loyal companion. However, with Cersei keeping tight rein on the Lannister guardsmen, and the goldcloaks in training across the city, Tyrion had no one else for protection, and Jasper refused to let him walk the city alone, so had asked Beric to go with him, for which Tyrion was very grateful, especially now he had found out that the city was getting angrier with him by the day.

At the alchemists guild headquarters, beneath Rhaenys' Hill, Wisdom Hallyne, the man that Cersei had commissioned to oversee the creation of the Wildfire, greeted them and led them deeper into the guild, to where they were storing the Wildfire.

"The substance is fire given form", the alchemist explained to them, Beric looking decidedly unenthusiastic about using the Wildfire. "Loaded into catapults, the jars are flung at the enemy."

"And if we were using real soldiers", Beric said in a stony reply, "then we may even hit the enemy, but we don't have any, they are all fighting in the war."

"The Stormlanders aren't", Tyrion commented, although he understood Jasper's reason for not including them in his plans, they had been Renly's bannermen until recently, he could not risk them joining him. He turned back to the Wisdom, "how much do you have?"

The Wisdom opened a door and a huge cavern, filled with Wildfire jars was revealed. "Over seven thousand jars my lord", the Wisdom replied, rubbing his hands with glee, "we cannot fathom why, but Wildfire production has increased markedly, not since the days when Dragons ruled the skies, has it been so fast, so efficient", Tyrion ignored the rest of this drone, it mattered not why the Wildfire was being made, only that it was. "But rest assured my lord", the pyromancer finished, "we have more than enough to destroy Renly Baratheon's army."

"Or the entire city if there is one mistake in the battle", Beric commented before looking down at Tyrion, "you cannot be planning on using this from catapults can you, if so then the preachers were right, and you have doomed this city."

Tyrion nodded, the consequences of dropping one barrel of Wildfire were too extreme to be risked. "I must agree with the good knight, Wisdom Hallyne, the contents of this room could lay King's Landing low, you will not be making Wildfire for my sister any more, you'll be making it for me."

"How is the training of the new guards going?" Tyrion asked Jasper when they returned to the guarded map room. "Well I hope, we will need them."

"Better than can be expected", Jasper replied, he was running his right index finger in circles across the table as he stared vacantly at it, clearly thinking about something, "but not well enough."

Tyrion was not surprised about that, "will they be ready?"

"That rather depends on Renly", Jasper replied, "if he continues his march at his current rate with his current troop numbers then there is a good chance I can get them ready in time, if he awaits the forces of Lord Tarly, then it does not matter how long I have, they will not be ready."

Tyrion could not help but smile. Balon Greyjoy, although he had declared his independence, was busy attacking the Reach and had caused Renly to send 40,000 men back to defeat them under the command of his best battle commander, Randyll Tarly. When he heard of the surprise attack that Victarion Greyjoy had led against the Shield Islands of the Reach, he could not help but think back to the start of the Greyjoy rebellion, the first time Balon crowned himself, bells had rung across from the Rock in Lannisport and then those of Casterly Rock. Everyone rushed to the battlements and gazed across to the city of the Lannisters to see the thirty ships of the Lannister fleet up in flames, including his father's flagship. Tyrion had not seen his father in that moment, but had often wondered whether or not his father gave any expression at the sight of his rather expensive ships in flames. "Speaking of which, how is the Ironborn attack on the reach proceeding?" Tyrion asked.

"Not much major has happened", Jasper said, "Three Towers and Black Crown have fallen, they are bannermen to the Hightowers, which means that the Ironborn are probably targeting Oldtown, or will be before long. Paxter Redwyne has launched his fleet against the Iron Fleet, however, they suffered early losses from the Iron Fleet, but no major sea battles between the two have occured. There are also many Greyjoy ships are also raiding up the Mander, they could possibly threaten Highgarden from there, it is no wonder that Renly sent such a large host back to halt them."

"And a good thing for us, hopefully Lord Tarly can defeat the Ironborn comprehensively, at the same time, we take Renly's crown and force him into submission, two birds, one stone."

"Aye", said ser Beric, "that would save time and loyal men."

"Jasper", someone called out, bursting through the doors of the room. It was Jasper's squire, Devan Baratheon. He was out of breath, clearly having run a fair distance. "His grace is demanding that you present yourself before him in the throne room, he is saying that he will cut Sansa's throat if you not", Jasper raced from the room without a backwards glance.

Tyrion followed as fast as his own legs would carry him. He heard the two siblings shouting at each other before he got there, and the sight that reached his eyes was not good. Jasper and Beric had their swords out, as did the Kingsguard and Ser Meryn held Sansa with his sword at her throat, it looked to be a standoff. This was however, a situation that Tyrion could turn to his advantage. "What is going on here?" He marched up to them, Lannister swords behind him, giving his some authority. "You two are siblings, brothers in arms in a time of war, explain why you stand opposing each other, now!"

"My brother is objecting to my methods", Joffrey said, "I am the king, he does not do wrong."

Jasper bit his lip, clearly eager to retort, but slightly panicked looks he shot at Sansa told Tyrion that he was not going to act for fear of harm coming to Sansa, for which Tyrion was grateful, were she to be harmed, Jaime would be as well.

"Enough!" Tyrion called out. "Men, take the lady Sansa back to her chambers, any of you touch her and your heads will replace those of the Stark household. Understood?"

"Yes my lord", his guard commander said, before escorting Sansa from the room. However, they paused as Jasper gave her his cloak so she could cover her ruined dress.

"Now, is this over, or do you still need to sort out this pettiness?"

Jasper sheathed his sword, "we are done."

"No we are not", Joffrey replied, glaring daggers at his brother. "I have heard things from the streets brother, you have been stirring the people against me."

Jasper's face leapt in alarm, and Tyrion could tell that it was not faked. "Where did you hear that? I tell you it is a false accusation."

"Is it", Joffrey said, leering. "So you have nothing to do with the preachers calling me a bastard and naming you king."

"Nothing at all", Jasper replied, he was looking worried now, "I swear it Joffrey, by the-"

"I do not believe you", Joffrey replied. "But I have deemed that you are not allowed in my city any longer, you are henceforth banished from King's Landing, never to return."

Tyrion watched in horror as the Kingsguard made to take Jasper by force, Joffrey could not be so stupid, and Tyrion's father was relying on him to stop such actions. "Joffrey, let us put more resources to finding out the truth behind these rumours before we act."

"No, I know it is him, the King cannot be wrong", Joffrey declared, glaring at Tyrion now. "Mind your place imp, you are hand of the king, not the king", he turned back to Jasper once more, "You have until sunrise tomorrow to gather your things, then you must be gone."

Tyrion could only watch in horror as the best defence the city and king had, turned and walked back through the door, pausing once to look back at Joffrey, gloating on his throne.


	22. ACOK Jasper III

_A/N: Dark Lord of Ori - Thanks for pointing that out, I will try and look over them with greater detail, but a university budget limits the amount of printing that I can do. Also, was the misspelling of Robert in the review you making a point or was it just ironic?_

_Wolvenstrom - Yes, yes he does_

_Also, if you haven't noticed I have put up the Battles of Vengeance and Justice, where I shall put up brief descriptions of the battles that take place in the story. I will only put the battles up, for obvious reasons, after I have reached that point in the story._

_Anyway, keep reviewing and enjoying, and here is the next chapter :)_

"I've said it many times on this journey", Beric said as they neared Storm's End. "But your brother is a cunt, your brother I know, but a cunt."

Jasper could only smile at his friend's choice of words. "Indeed", he replied, "why he has to be my brother I have no idea." He vaguely wondered just how Tyrion was doing in preparing the city, however, that thought was sent straight out of his head when he caught eyes on Storm's End. More importantly, the fields outside Storm's End which were covered in tents and flags, it seemed that every single one of his bannermen were present at Storm's End and they had all brought their hosts with them. "What is this?" He said to no one in particular, spurring his horse on through the tents, vaguely hearing men call out to and about him but ignoring all of them. With him in King's Landing, there was only one person who could call the banners of the Stormlands, his Castellan, Ser Cortnay Penrose. As he got closer, he realised that not all of his banners were present, for the Marcher Lords, Houses Caron, Dondarrion, Selmy and Swann, as well as all those sworn to them, were not present, which meant that a significant number of soldiers were not there either, for those houses were amongst the most powerful he had, indeed, apart from House Baratheon, House Swann was the most powerful house in the Stormlands.

The portcullis was raised as Jasper and his escort rode through the gate, determined to discover exactly what had happened. In the courtyard were many knights and nobles, who all turned to look at him surprised, addressing them was Ser Cortnay Penrose, who looked just as shocked as the nobles around him. "Ser Cortnay!" Jasper demanded, striding up to the castellan after swinging his legs over his saddle, planting them on the familiar ground of his home. "What in the name of the gods is going on here?!"

"My Lord", Ser Cortnay greeted with a bowed head, "we did not know you were coming."

"That would be because I never said", Jasper replied irritably, why should he have to inform people that he was coming to his own home, "now why have you called the banners without my leave?"

Ser Cortnay held out a piece of paper, Jasper took it and unfurled the already opened letter, although he could tell from the seal that it came from House Caron. "The Dornishmen have invaded the Stormlands my lord", Ser Cortnay said, "they have declared for King Renly." Jasper kept his face still, the way Stannis had taught him to do so, and read the letter from his friend Lord Bryce.

_My Lord Jasper_

_I write to you now with urgent tidings from Nightsong, I have sent this letter to a number of other lords as well, in the hope that at least one copy of it shall see reach you in time. The Dornishmen have crossed the border under the command of their prince Oberyn Martell and his Sand Snake daughter Obara Sand. I ordered the calling of the Marcher Lord's men, and we have managed to garrison our castles, however, we cannot hold out for long, we need your help. _

_Please My Lord, come to our aid, drive off these Dornishmen and show them what Stormlanders can do._

_Your servant_

_Bryce Caron, Lord of Nightsong, Lord of the Dornish Marches_

Jasper folded the letter back up. "When did this arrive?" He asked his castellan.

"Almost two weeks back My Lord", Ser Cortnay replied, "we have heard nothing new from Lord Bryce since then. But House Swann said that they were marching to his aid."

"My brother would be leading them your grace", Ser Balon said, "for our father is ill, however Donnel is not the best commander, I do not know if he could stop the likes of Oberyn Martell."

Jasper nodded, "then we have no time", he said, "when will the men be ready to march?"

"They can be ready by sundown my lord."

"Then we march then, get them ready." His lords nodded and bowed as they left the castle to prepare their men. 'You did well Ser Cortnay', Jasper said as he ascended the steps, "but where are Arya and Edric?' He asked, 'I had hoped to see them here."

"Edric took Lady Arya into the Kingswood", Ser Cortnay said, "they are riding and hunting with an escort of men." Jasper sighed, he wished he could see Arya, make sure that she was doing well and that she was not planning on running off, but it seemed that would have to wait until he returned from his battles with the Dornish.

"I see", Jasper said, "well then, Devan!" He called out over his shoulder, and his squire came running up to them, "prepare new horses and ready my weapons and armour, we need them ready so that they can be put on before we ride tonight."

"Yes Jasper", Devan said before running off. "In the meantime Ser Cortnay, I have been on the road for a while, as such I need to be brought up to speed on certain matters, and, even more importantly, I need some good food."

Ser Cortnay gave a slight laugh, clapping Jasper on the back, "both shall be arranged at once my Lord."

Later, as Jasper feasted on some venison, Ser Cortnay brought him up to speed on events that had taken place recently across Westeros. "Ironborn raids continue across the western coast of the Reach My Lord", he explained, using a map of Westeros lain out across the table in front of him. "The Iron Fleet hounds the Redwynes and reavers are raiding up the Mander and near to the mouth of the Honeywine and Oldtown."

'The Ironborn are certainly bold', Jasper commented, tearing off a hunk of meat with his teeth, "not many would dare try and take Oldtown, House Hightower is strong."

"They are Ironborn, My Lord", Ser Cortnay pointed out, "I doubt they wish to take Oldtown, no doubt they want to sack it."

Jasper nodded in agreement whilst chewing on his meat. "Anything else the Ironborn are planning or doing?"

"I can't speak for planning my Lord", Ser Cortnay said, "but they don't seem to be moving far beyond the Reach for now."

"Good", Jasper muttered, "let traitors fight traitors, it makes our lives easier." A flash of unease went across Ser Cortnay's face, only for a moment, and Jasper would not have noticed it had he not already been looking, but it was clear that Ser Cortnay still had a little loyalty left towards Renly. Which was understandable, but still, Cortany's duty was to Jasper now, and thus, Renly was an enemy to be defeated. "What about the Riverlands?"

"Lord Tywin is falling back to the Westerlands", Ser Cortnay explained, "burning as he goes, he defeated a host led by Tytos Blackwood on the way as well." Jasper nodded, he had heard of the skirmish along the Red Fork in King's Landing. "Apart from that, there does not seem to be much happening."

"What about Renly's host?" Jasper asked, "where are they now?"

"About two weeks from entering the Crownlands, if they continue at their current rate."

Jasper nodded, contemplating, "that should give me enough time to defeat the Dornish and return to defend Storm's End, in case Renly sends more men south."

"And if he doesn't?" Beric asked

"Then we have nothing to worry about." Jasper finished off his dinner and looked out of the nearest window to see the dark blue of a sunset sky. "Well, I had best get ready."

"My Lord", Ser Cortnay interrupted as Jasper got up, wiping his mouth with his cloth. "I wish to keep some men behind, in case Renly does send raiders to the Stormlands." Jasper considered it, and decided that it was a fair suggestion. He nodded and Ser Cortnay continued, "may I make some requests for certain lords?" Jasper nodded again, slightly confused as to who Cortnay would want, but surely it would not matter. "I would request Ser Ronnet Connington, Lord Lonmouth, Lord Rogers and the men of House Tarth as well."

Jasper considered it, they were not too major, so it would not affect his host too much to keep them behind. "Very well", he said, "but none of Renly's men are to set one toe in my lands."

"Of course my lord", Ser Cortnay replied. As Jasper left, he thought he saw an inkling of a smile on his face, but shrugged it off, he had to get ready after all.

He found Devan in his chambers and they wordlessly got ready, it was strange, for, no matter how many tournaments that Jasper had been in, he had never fought a battle before, nor had Devan, so this would be a joint experience for the two of them. "Are you nervous Devan?" He asked, as Devan fastened his breastplate at the side.

Devan paused in the act of strapping on Jasper's right arm guard. "A little Jasper", Devan replied softly, and Jasper smiled.

"Good", he said, stretching his fingers once Devan had put his gauntlet on to see how restricted his movement was in his hand. "Everyone should be scared before their first battle", that was one of the lessons that Stannis had taught him first and foremost, when he had accompanied the Royal Fleet in seizing a pirate ship. "Some might say that you are being a coward", Jasper said, looking at Devan pointedly as his squire moved to fasten on his left arm guard and gauntlet, "but remember that courage is not the absence of fear, but rather the recognition that fear is not what rules you. If you can do your duty in the face of fear, then that is true courage."

"Do you believe that?" Devan asked.

"Of course", Jasper replied truthfully, stretching his arms out as the armour settled on him. "Why lie now Devan, upon the precipice of death, that is when you come into your own." Devan still looked confused. "Conflict makes a man stronger Devan", Jasper explained, "that is why the more you train and experience the better you become in battle."

"So you are saying", Devan said slowly, as though he was still trying to get his head around it, "that if I survive this battle, I will be better because of it?"

"Exactly", Jasper replied, smiling that his squire had picked up on things so quickly. "You will survive, and realise that fear no longer has a hold on you, thus, when you emerge from this battle with the Dornishmen, you will be better and stronger than you were before."

"Okay", Devan said in understanding as he finished putting on Jasper's greaves and fastening the sword belt. "You are ready", he said, stepping back.

Jasper twisted and turned, making sure it was done correctly. When he was satisfied, he collected his stag antlered helm and left to get on his horse, ready to ride against the Martells to defend his lands as was his duty as liege.


	23. ACOK Victarion II

_A/N: Yay (or boo, according to some reviewers) we are back to my favourite of all the Greyjoys as the war in the Reach continues. Thanks for the reviews, keep them coming and enjoy the chapter. Happy Reaching :)_

_Victarion blocked the downward strike of a Redwyne knight who tried to prevent his raiders taking the ship he was stationed on. His Ironborn were already swarming over both this ship and the other six ships that the Redwynes had sent to scout out the Ironborn. At that point, the boat hit a larger wave than normal and the knight, who was clearly not used to being at sea, lost his footing and, as he was attempting to regain it, Victarion hefted his axe and buried it in the knight's chest, the blade of his battle axe smashing through armour, cloth, skin and bone and into the flesh underneath it all. He wrenched his battleaxe out of the knight, relishing the feel of battle as he looked over the deck of a heavy cog, his Ironborn had slaughtered the crew and were even now raising the flag of the Kraken atop the mast. Casting his gaze around the nearby waters, he saw that the Kraken flew above all of the ships. Another successful raid. "Wulf!" Victarion called to his second in command. Wulf One-Ear clambered up to him, as Victarion made his way to the ramp back to his Flagship, Iron Victory. "This ship is yours', he told his loyal captain, 'make it ready to bring back to Southshield."_

"_Yes Lord Captain", Wulf replied, turning and yelling out orders to the Ironborn on the ship as Victarion, resplendent in his full plate mail, marched back across to his ship. The sea air filled his nostrils, that delicious scent of salt and water that would not be found anywhere else. To someone like Victarion, who had spent their entire lives on ships, travelling the seas and oceans of the world, it was possible to tell different seas apart by how the waves moved, how the seas smelt and what fish swam in them, with a blindfold on, Victarion could tell the difference between the Narrow Sea and the Sea of Dorne, for he had gone reaving in both in his youth. But these differences meant nothing to the Ironborn, for all seas and oceans were part of the Drowned God's domain, and as such all were open for pillaging. _

Victarion pulled himself away from his daydream as he went at the crack of dawn to observe the Iron Fleet off Southshield. All one hundred ships were massed on the south side of the Island, making ready to sail in the grey light of dawn towards the south, and another encounter with the ships of the Reach. This time, Victarion would be destroying the greatest threat to the Iron Fleet on the western coast of Westeros, the Redwyne Fleet, which had numbered at over two hundred war cogs, galleys and dromons, all with experienced crews and competent battle commanders, true they were not to the level of Victarion or Stannis Baratheon, but they were competent none the less. However, that fleet was missing some of its ships, thirty one to be exact, for, in a number of daring raids, Victarion had been capturing ships of the Redwyne fleet so as to use them to launch the first assault on the Redwynes, to confuse and disorient their fleet, at which point the main thrust from the Iron Fleet would charge in, burn and ruin the outlying ships before, like a tornado of the Storm God, they closed in, crushing what remains of the Redwyne Fleet. It was a simple matter, easily achieved, he would give Wulf One-ear command of the infiltrating ships and Ralph Kenning command of one of the pincers of the Iron Fleet, whilst he commanded the other one.

"Lord Captain", it was Ralph Kenning, smiling as he approached. "The Redwyne ships are nearly ready to depart, each has a hold full of reavers armed to the teeth and eager for blood."

Victarion nodded, "inform Wulf that he is to leave four ships behind before setting off."

"Leave them behind?" Victarion knew what his subordinate was thinking, why should he leave ships behind. Why lessen their power?

"It is needed", he explained, "if the Redwynes see the exact number of ships they have lost coming towards them they are more likely to expect trouble than a number of ships that look to be fleeing. Speaking of which, are the modifications made?"

"Yes Lord Captain", Ralph said, "the ships have been damaged significantly and several are using old battered sails. However, we damaged the ships in locations that were not likely to hinder battlefield capability."

Victarion nodded, allowing a slight smile to grace his features. Paxter Redwyne, acting under Stannis Baratheon's command, had led the Redwyne fleet off Fair Isle, helping to trap his fleet where it would then be destroyed. "Very well, how long before the fleet can be ready to sail all the way to the Arbor?"

"It will still be several days Lord Captain", Ralph said, "it seems the other captains have stripped much of Southshield already, the new Lord Lenwood Tawney may not have much to live off before long."

"Balon has decreed that the Shield Islands are now part of the Iron Islands", Victarion said, "they will stop before long, as soon as the Drowned God finds them again. But Lenwood is not on Southshield."

"He is not?" Ralph asked.

"No", Victarion confirmed, "he still commands his ship for me, he still reaves as an Ironborn should, as soon as we have our independence, he can settle into his lands, and breed a generation of Ironborn from the people there."

"Aye", Ralph Kenning said, pleased that Lenwood, a faithful captain of the Iron Fleet was still serving with them. "Indeed, with the Shield Islands, Ironborn numbers will swell like never before, and the Reach is open to many treasures right next door."

"Lord Captain! Lord Captain!" A messenger came running, holding out a letter in his hand. "Dagmer sends you this raven from up the Mander."

Victarion took the letter and scanned it over, it seemed that Renly Baratheon had sent men back to defend the Reach. Dagmer was now retreating back down the Mander but had lost several ships to Reachmen fire. This would mean a change of plans, for it would not be some meagre force that the young Baratheon had sent back, with house Tyrell backing him, it would be a considerable number of soldiers. Balon had given him direct command of the Ironborn attack on the Reach for this reason. Balon himself was back on the Iron Islands with many of the Longships, preparing to launch raids against the North and the Westerlands. The Ironborn plan to seize the western coast of the Reach had been threefold, the raids up the Mander, the seizure of the Arbor and the destruction of its fleet, and lastly had been his niece Yara's attack on Oldtown. The Arbor was separated by the Redwyne Straights from the land army of the Reach. As such, Victarion could put that on hold, but the seizure of Oldtown had to come first. At last report, Yara and her Longships were still waiting to lure the Hightower forces away from Oldtown with raids against their bannermen, a strategy that, whilst being see-through to a reasonable commander, was also one that was almost guaranteed to work, for you owe your bannermen your protection in exchange for their service. The strategy would have to change, the campaign on the Honeywine would have to change to a campaign of force, rather than deception. _Honest warring_, as Victarion called it

"Ralph, how many Redwyne Ships are prepared to sail now?"

Ralph thought it over before replying, "eight".

"Tell Wulf that he is to appoint a subordinate to oversee the readying of the other ships whilst he commands these eight. We make ready for Blackcrown."

Ralph did not question Victarion, he had earned that loyalty through years of service.

The Iron Fleet would sail, and Victarion was about to attack a second city. Not even Dagon Greyjoy had done that, but with Lannisport in the last war and Oldtown in this one, Victarion would cause all cities to close their harbours in fear at the mention of his approach. As he made ready to don his armour and sail with his fleet, Victarion felt the thrill that often accompanied a battle come down upon him. He would send a raven to Balon before he went though, his brother needed to hear of the changing situation in the Reach and to decide whether to carry on the campaign, or keep what they had and move elsewhere.

He leapt off _Iron Victory_ as soon as it beached near Blackcrown, nearby, the ships of Yara's fleet had beached, of the one hundred longships that Balon had given Yara, only forty or so seemed to be present, he assumed that she had given the other ships leave to go to market with Iron. His niece herself was ready and waiting for him upon the beach. Victarion casually glanced up to see the Kraken flying from Blackcrown's towers, the sight caused a smile to grace his features.

"Uncle", Yara said through gritted teeth, "what are you doing here?"

"You need to speed up your campaign", Victarion replied, without preamble. "Renly Baratheon has sent men back to repel us, you must take Oldtown now."

Yara scoffed, "impossible, they have too many men remaining in the city, too many would die."

"You overestimate the men of the Green Lands", Victarion commented, "we are Ironborn, they are no match for us when we throw our weight."

"Well do you have a plan?" Yara asked.

Victarion nodded and turned to point at the eight Redwyne ships that were being commanded by Wulf. "They precede us into the harbour, they then cause disruption amongst the ships present, I then follow with the main strength of the Iron Fleet, engage and destroy their ships, at which point you follow and land your reavers in Oldtown proper."

"We would lose too many men", Yara said dismissively.

"This is war Yara", Victarion commented, "you either lose men to achieve victory or lose the war, if you want to rule the Iron Islands one day, then you had best learn that."

"I will not order my ships into a bloodbath."

Victarion smiled, "then you will watch from here as _my men_ sack Oldtown. My ships will set off within the hour, if you wish to have a share of the glory then follow my battle plan. If not, then remain behind". Victarion turned and made his way back to his ship, boarding it as it pushed off from the beach.

Victarion watched, axe ready, Kraken helm on as he followed the Redwyne ships under the command of Wulf as they made a mock chase of the ships into Oldtown harbour. Victarion gave a casual glance backwards and saw that Yara had been goaded, and was following his ships with her own. He felt his breathing quicken with anticipation, although he could not help but feel jealousy towards Wulf and his men, who would have the honour of drawing first blood.

His feeling of anticipation grew even stronger upon hearing the bells of Oldtown's harbour ring in warning at their approach. The flame of Hightower was drawing in the Ironborn fleet, that was a serious weakness strategically, Victarion, being a more experienced commander than Yara had recognised that, if he had been given command of the force sent to assault Oldtown, then he would simply have waited for a mist to emerge and then used the fire to guide his ships into harbour. However, since the Iron Fleet was needed to battle the Redwyne Fleet, sending him here would have been the wrong decision. "Faster!" He ordered and his rowers sped up, they could not afford to get too far behind the Redwyne ships, the later they were the more chance that Wulf was discovered and their plan ruined.

However, it was not to be, as he led the Iron Fleet into the harbour, he watched as Wulf's crewmen threw flaming torches onto the nearest Hightower ships, which were arranged in a horseshoe to counter the Ironborn. "Full Speed!" Victarion roared and his ships surged forward, spreading out to take on the confused Hightower fleet. "Grapples!" He called as they passed the nearest ship, and his men grappled the enemy ship near, lowering the ramps across. Victarion led the charge, cutting down the first crewman he came across, his axe burying itself in the young terrified man's shoulder. Planting his foot against the man's chest, he pulled his axe free with a sickening squelch. He leapt forward to charge the next man, but his crew had already cut them all down, the battle was beginning as a massacre. "Back to the ship", Victarion called out, for whilst the Iron Fleet was engaging the Hightower fleet, Yara's longships were already nearing the shore.

His men rapidly re-boarded their ship and powered forward, determined not to be the last to reach the shore, Victarion looked back and saw that every Hightower ship was being contested or had already been won and were floating aimlessly in the harbour, their crews slaughtered.

The landing would prove to be a challenge, for rushing towards them were the green cloaked City Watch of Oldtown, as well as many knights and raised levies that bore the colours of Oldtown and Hightower on them. Yara's Ironborn were storming ashore and already battling with the enemy. "Target the City Watch and the knights", Victarion ordered, "they are the biggest threats."

Victarion yelled out his warcry as he leapt over the edge of his ship, landing upon the shore using his left hand to steady himself by planting it on the ground together with his feet. He looked up to see a knight charging him, he grinned at the challenge and charged right back at him, ducking under his sword and slashing at his head with his axe, the knight deflected the attack and moved to strike again, but Victarion was too quick, he smashed the knight's helmet off his head to see a hardened fighter, with many battle scars. _A worthy opponent_¸ he thought as he used his axe to push the knight's sword away before he swung it around in a powerful arc and split the knight's head in two, his skull shattering and his brains flying everywhere. Victarion charged onward again, meeting his next opponents, who were two men of the City Watch, both armed with spears. They charged at him and Victarion grabbed the spear of the first man and yanked it to the side. The other man skidded to a halt so as not to impale his companion, but he did not attack again as he should have done, a mistake which cost him his life, for Victarion swiftly finished these two off with quick chops from his axe.

He looked around, everywhere the Ironborn were storming ashore and overwhelming the enemy. Victarion knew victory was guaranteed and charged forward, eager for more victims and glory.


	24. ACOK Tyrion II

_A/N: Trojan Prince: No, it wasn't I'm afraid, I never actually read that one._

Tyrion was busy trying to think of further ways of improving the city's defences. But his mind was blank, he was sure that Jasper would have had more ideas, but his halfwit nephew had banished him from the city. The many knights that Jasper had brought with him had also left with their lord, and they had been the ones training the City Watch recruits in combat, so now Tyrion had to bring in different men to train them, taking them away from their main duties in the city. He had a Small Council meeting shortly to discuss the affairs of the realm, he could only hope that a freak fire had burned Renly's army to the ground, or else he would be subject to more bad news. The bad news had started when, after feeling relieved that Jasper had called his banners, sure that the boy was going to come and save the city, he had marched south, to repel Dornish invaders after the southernmost of the Seven Kingdoms had declared for Renly. That had surprised Tyrion, he had considered sending Myrcella in a betrothal offer to Dorne, to wed Trystane Martell, however, the fact that Renly's main support came from the Reach, who were traditional enemies of Dorne, and the fact that the Stormlands stood in between Dorne and King's Landing, he had thought that Dorne would remain neutral, but clearly they truly despised the Lannisters.

At the meeting, Tyrion took his place and did not even bother to ask the obvious question, simply waving his hand at Varys to begin. "My Lord, it seems that our enemies have suffered many misfortunes."

Tyrion looked up, this was good news. "How so?"

"In the Reach, the Ironborn under Victarion Greyjoy have sacked Oldtown, apparently most of the Hightower family itself were killed and the others have been taken away. The Starry Sept was torn down and the Kraken now mans the walls, they have begun raiding up the Honeywine."

Tyrion smiled, let the Tyrell bannermen suffer what the Lannisters had at the beginning of the Greyjoy rebellion. "I would not be so quick to smile my lord", Varys told him in a warning like tone. "True, the invasion and devastation of Oldtown was a boon to us, it has also sent shockwaves across Westeros."

"What do I care for shockwaves?" Tyrion asked the Mastr of Whisperers, "so our enemies fear the Ironborn more, it only increases the chances that they will rally against them rather than fight us."

Varys nodded, "very true my lord, but that is not the form of shockwave I speak of."

"What then?" Tyrion asked.

"The Maesters", Vars replied, "many of the maesters in training, and indeed, the archmaesters and those fully trained, were slaughtered by the Ironborn in their attack on the city."

Tyrion considered that, the maesters were vital to the transportation of information across the kingdoms, via their training of ravens and such. However, in the end, more could be trained and more would be trained to replace those lost, and the anger at the Ironborn more than made up for their loss in the short term. Tyrion considered this to be a victory, and a good one as well. "What other misfortunes have our enemies suffered?" Tyrion asked. _If they are half as good as that, we may be in with a chance._

"In the Stormlands, Jasper has lifted the sieges of the Marcher Lords, adding their strength to his, the Dornish appeared to suffer some casualties in those small battles and then Jasper defeated Prince Oberyn in open battle in the Prince's Pass, the Dornish have retreated back across the border."

_Better and Better_, Tyrion thought, if the Dornish had been repelled from his lands, then Jasper could come north and defend his brother, if he could, like his mentor Stannis, ignore slights enough to do his duty.

At last Tyrion asked, "what news of Renly Baratheon?"

"His host crossed the Crownland's border two days ago", Varys said, however, "I believe there is still time, for he will have to construct enough rafts to ferry his host across the Blackwater Rush if he wants to take King's Landing, and he will need siege weapons as well, they all have to be built." Tyrion nodded, but that made little consolation to the fact that Renly would soon have more than fifty thousand men at arms descending upon them, and Tyrion did not feel he would be able to stop them.

"What of the crownlanders?" Tyrion asked, "they would raise men, why haven't they?"

"Some have", Varys replied, "but only in the northern crownlands, it seems those around Crackclaw Massey's Hook and along the Blackwater Rush have either declared for Renly or are not deciding either way."

Tyrion felt like growling, of course the Crownlanders would not act in the face of such a host.

"There are also reports of growing discontent amongst the Royal Fleet still stationed at the capital", Varys said, "and people do want to leave the city via those ships."

"We should take the captains into custody and replace them with those more loyal", Lancel said, and Cersei looked pleased, of course, he would say whatever it was that his sweet sister wanted him to say wouldn't he.

"No", Tyrion replied, "those new captains will simply wait for Renly to arrive before betraying us, far better that we remove the threat entirely, order the ships to join the rest of the Royal Fleet at Dragonstone."

"Is that wise?" Grand Maester Pycelle asked, he had looked significantly reduced since reports had arrived of Oldtown, but then, he had been there during the last time the Citadel had suffered a problem, during the grey plague which had ravaged the city and killed three in every four maesters in training.

"If the city falls then it will be up to Jasper to reclaim it as king", Tyrion said, "far better that he face no opposition on the seas other than the Ironborn."

The council, apart from Varys, looked shocked. "Let us not fool ourselves that victory is certain, there is a very real possibility that the city will fall to Renly, and then we shall die, and Jasper will be all that is left for our side."

The rest of the meeting involved matters that had little to do with the war, so they rushed through them, the only real concern being the crown debt, and what was needed for it. But Tyrion dismissed thoughts on the crown debt, for they could be dealt with by his father, assuming he managed to even reach the city. So Tyrion got up and left, knowing that the worst part of the day was not done yet, he had supper with Cersei later, which was always a joy to look forward to.

Tyrion finished off the last of the supper, partially surprised that he was still alive, for he had half expected Cersei to use this chance to poison him and be rid of him once and for all. Needless to say, he was glad that she had not. "A fine meal", he commented as servants took away his plate, "a good end to a rather bad day, wouldn't you say?"

Cersei did not reply, simply turning with her wine glass and looking out at the darkened Blackwater bay, towards Dragonstone and Stannis Baratheon, one of the last wildcards left in the game now that Dorne had shown its hand. "I hear Joffrey plans on fighting", she said, still with her back turned.

"An inspiration for the troops", Tyrion replied jovially, "the brave young king in his shining armour, fighting to defeat the evil, boy-loving rebel."

"He's only a boy", Cersei said dismissively.

"Younger boys are fighting his wars for him", Tyrion pointed out, "one of them is fighting the Dornish as we speak."

"Joff isn't ready", Cersei said, turning to him and holding the back of her chair. "Jasper has been for years, but Joffrey is not."

"Jasper is sixteen", Tyrion pointed out, "Jaime was a Kingsguard at fifteen, Daeron the Young Dragon conquered Dorne at fourteen, and his parentage was the same manner as Joffrey's", Tyrion said the last part slowly, hoping that Cersei would react, unfortunately he would be denied that entertainment for the evening.

Cersei waved her hand dismissively, "some men have a gift for warfare, Joff's place is not on the battlefield."

"It's not on the throne either", Tyrion replied, "in fact, he sent the one who should be on the throne out of the capital vowing to kill him should he return. Sadly for us, he is on the throne."

There was a moment of silence between the two of them, both daring the other to back down. "Do you think I am an idiot?" Cersei asked quietly.

Tyrion shook his head, "no I would say you posses above average intelligence."

"You are sending my eldest off to the battlefield to die so that Jasper can take his place."

"It is Jasper's place", Tyrion pointed out again, "but no, you are wrong in this respect, Joffrey will have the finest armour gold can buy, he will have his kingsguard around him."

"A Kingsguard, yes, but many the rest of the knights in the city appear to have fled".

"You can blame Joffrey for that", Tyrion said taking a drink. Cersei's face darkened and so Tyrion felt he should explain before she got truly angry. "He sent away Jasper, a mistake by itself, more so when you consider the fact that Jasper had the loyalty of the best knights in the city and they left with him." Tyrion looked at Cersei as she turned away, possibly in shame, more likely because Tyrion was right. "He needs to be on those walls, the men will fight more fiercely knowing that their king is fighting beside them, not hiding behind his mother's skirts."

"You are the King's hand, or rather acting as the King's Hand until father gets here", Cersei said angrily, "you cannot order the king to do anything."

Tyrion nodded in acceptance, "very true", he said, "very true, however, a king who has not yet realised that, at the age of _seventeen_, he should no longer have a regent", he pointedly stared at Cersei, "is open to many suggestions."

"What are you saying?" Cersei demanded, anger present in every line of her face.

Tyrion smiled, "when you were married it was Robert who gave you power, now that he is dead the power comes from your son, interfere with my plans to keep his worthless behind on that Iron Throne that you covet so dearly, and I may be forced to point out to him the fact that he should not have you ruling him." Tyrion got up, looking at the shocked expression on Cersei's face. "As I said, lovely supper", he commented, wiping his mouth once more, "but I must get back to my duties now."

Tyrion returned to his chambers, thinking as he did so, _that should keep her of my back until the city is safe, or until the city is ash_.


	25. ACOK Arya III

"I can't believe we were gone for the few days it took Jasper to arrive and then leave again", Arya muttered, as she and Edric were at their usual retreat atop the roof of Storm's End's drum tower keep. With the calling of Storm's End's banners, Edric had thought that it would be a bad idea to continue planning whilst in Storm's End, for the danger of being caught was much bigger with so many men around. That was why the two of them, and some loyal people they could trust, Arya's guards Heward and Wyl, four of Edric's friends and the smith of the castle, had gone on a hunting trip so they could continue discussing things. However, Ser Cortnay had inadvertently interfered with their plans by sending over a hundred men to watch over them and make sure that Arya did not attempt to escape from the castle, therefore, they had not only been unable to plan a thing, but Jasper had come and gone. The one upside was that, because he had arrived unannounced, Ser Cortnay and the conspirators were unable to act then, and would now have to wait for him to return once more.

"There is no point growling about it", Edric replied, "we have to carry on, for Jasper will be back before long, and when he is, they will try and take his life." Edric pulled out the list they had been working on in the woods, about who else they could get to help them, that was all that they had been able to achieve during their few days in the Kingswood. He looked over to the door down, checking that Nymeria was still guarding the door in case someone came up who was unwelcome. "We have Ser Gilbert Farring, he is captain of the guards, Lord Elwood Meadows, Ser Cortnay's second in command, Ser Loren Jast, he leads the Lannister men who came with Jasper, who Jasper left behind in the castle."

"Surely they will join us anyway", Arya pointed out, "Jasper's mother is a Lannister, their lords are Lannisters."

Edric nodded, "yes, but gold can sway people, we will need to make sure they are on our side." Arya understood the reasoning behind that, they were not northern lords, they did not have the same loyalty. "Is there anyone else we can think of who brought men apart from the conspirators?"

Arya thought, but could not think of anyone. Then another thought struck her. "When we were listening in when they first arrived', she began, 'They said they couldn't trust someone any longer, who was that?'"

"They did didn't they", Edric agreed, his brow creased as he also tried to think. "Was it Ronnet?"

"Yes, that was it Red Ronnet", Arya said in triumph.

Edric raised an eyebrow, "you think we should recruit him?" Arya nodded, "it is worth a shot I suppose."

"So we have Ser Gilbert, Lord Elwood, Ser Loren and Ser Ronnet", Arya read off Edric's list, "shall I try to get two of them and you try to get the other two?"

Edric nodded, "that would probably be best, so…" He said, thinking as he looked over the four names. "I think I should take Ser Gilbert and Lord Elwood", Edric said finally, "I have known them my whole life, I think I can get them on our side, you should talk to Ser Loren and Ser Ronnet, as Jasper's future wife, they will listen to you."

Arya grumbled, she would be given the harder ones wouldn't she, she did not know either of these men, how was she supposed to make them join her, a girl, and Edric, a bastard? Arya was thinking of that the whole way down towards the courtyards, where she saw Lannister flags and the flags of House Jast, hopefully the twenty Lannister guardsmen were all there with their leader.

"Hey look who it is", one of the men jeered, "it's traitor Stark's pup."

"Shut up!" Arya yelled and Nymeria growled menacingly, causing the laughing to stop immediately. She turned to Ser Loren, who had been one of the few who had not laughed. "How may I help you Lady Arya?"

_At least he is normal_, Arya thought. "I need a word in private", she said, and Ser Loren nodded.

"Keep training men", he said before following Arya and Nymeria off a fair distance. "I apologise My Lady", he said honestly, "my men are rather resentful about being left behind by Lord Jasper".

"Why did he leave you behind?" Arya asked, curious.

"Well since he took half the garrison with him, he wanted us to stay behind, I think it was also because we are loyal to him personaly", Ser Loren continued, "and not to the captain of the guards or the Castellan."

"So", Arya said, thankful that this seemed to be going well. "If someone was planning to kill Jasper, whoever they were, you would stop them?"

Ser Loren, brushed his blonde hair from his eyes, looking suspicious, "yes", he said slowly, "of course."

"And your men?"

"Shall do as I tell them", Ser Loren said, "why are you asking these questions My Lady?"

Arya looked around, making sure there was no-one nearby. '"Edric and I have discovered a plot, Ser Cortnay plans to kill Jasper and swear the Stormlands to Renly Baratheon."

"What?" Ser Loren asked, "where did you hear that?"

"We followed his guests", Arya explained, "they are planning to kill him together."

"What guests?" Ser Loren asked.

"The Lords who remained behind, as Jasper went to fight the Dornish", Arya explained, and Ser Loren stood up, folded his arms and gave a knowing smile.

"A very good joke my lady", he said, "but I highly doubt that it just so happens that the lords remaining behind are the ones who wish to kill our Lord Jasper, what reason would they have for doing so?"

Arya felt like screaming, "I am not lying! They are going to kill him."

"_If_ what you say is true", Loren asked Arya, still having his arms cross and clearly still not believing her, "then what shall I do about it? I have twenty men, Ser Cortnay and all these so called conspirators have over two hundred."

"Not for long", Arya said, desperately trying to get Ser Loren to believe her, of all the people on their list, she would have thought that he would be the easiest to convince and get to help them. "Edric is talking to Ser Gilbert now, he is captain of the guards."

"I know who Ser Gilbert is", Ser Loren replied. He seemed to be deciding what to say and Arya bit her lip in hope. "_If_ I believe you, and that is a big if, what would you have me do?"

Arya breathed a sigh of relief. "They plan to start a fire to lure off the loyal guards", Arya said rapidly, "all we need you to do is be by the gate when Jasper arrives, that is when they plan to attack him."

Loren considered it before replying, "well that I can do", he said, "we shall see whether or not you speak the truth then." Ser Loren turned and re-joined his men, Arya relieved that he had decided to be there when the traitors would strike, that was all that was needed.

Arya then turned and re-entered Storm's End, on the lookout for Ronnet Connington, the knight of Griffin's Roost. Unfortunately, she was still bound by the rules set out by Ser Cortnay that she was not allowed in the guest wing, and now there were guards present stopping her from going there. She would have to wait for him to come out and then she would talk to him. So she waited, getting more and more bored, deciding to play with Nymeria, Arya kept one ear open for the sounds of someone descending from the guest wing. But the only people to come down from there whilst she was waiting were servants and guards. In the end she decided just to ask the guards. So, walking up to the two guarding the stairs, she asked, "where is Ser Ronnet?"

The two guard looked at each other, then one of them looked down at her and said, 'no idea, sorry m'lady'.

Arya grumbled and turned around, but then the other guard said, "here he is m'lady, he's coming now." Arya turned and sure enough, Ronnet Connington, with his distinguishing red hair, came out from the stairs.

"Ser Ronnet", she said, rushing over to him.

"Lady Arya", the knight replied, clearly surprised. "How may I help you?"

"Not here", Arya said and she beckoned him away to the other stairs, trying to find an abandoned room, in the end finding one on the second floor. She opened the door and beckoned a very confused looking Ser Ronnet inside.

"Okay", Ser Ronnet said, turning to Arya once she had shut and bolted the door, keeping Nymeria near the door so that she would alert them to anyone coming near. "What is this about my Lady?"

"I know what Ser Cortnay is planning", Arya said quietly and Ser Ronnet instantly looked uncomfortable. "And I know you want no part in it", she continued.

"Knowing that is very dangerous", Ronnet whispered, "Ser Cortnay could throw you in the dungeons remember, or worse."

"He wants to kill my friend", Arya replied, "I won't let him, and I am asking for your help to stop him."

Ronnet shook his head, pacing as he did so. "No, I want no part in any of this, I would have gone home, but Ser Cortnay won't risk me informing Lord Jasper, so he keeps me here."

"Jasper would reward you", Arya said, "Ser Cortnay wont."

"I have few men here", Ser Cortnay said, "what can I do to help?"

"Me and Edric are-"

"Edric!" Ser Ronnet interrupted, "so a girl and a bastard know, how are you going to stop Ser Cortnay? Hmm a girl, a bastard and one wolf, how?"

"There are others", Arya replied defensively, "we are not alone."

"Then who?"

"Ser Loren Jast", Arya told him, "his men, Ser Gilbert Farring, Elwood Meadows, and whatever men they can gather,"

After listing off those names, Ser Ronnet finally seemed impressed, "so you have all of them on your side?" Arya nodded, although it was a lie it seemed to be the only way to get Ser Ronnet on their side. Ronnet seemed to be considering his options, and then he finally accepted. "Okay", he said, "I will help you, in return, you have to tell Lord Jasper that I did and persuade him to grant some of my lands back."

"I will", Arya said, relieved, "all you have to do is be there when Jasper rides through the gate, that is when they plan to attack him."

Ronnet nodded, "I know, I was there when they planned it", he said, and left the room, and Arya made her way to the roof for her meeting with Edric.

Edric, as it turned out, had not done so well. "Lord Elwood thought I was a fool", he said bitterly, "while young and a lord, he could not countenance Ser Cortnay doing such a thing. However", he said, looking happier, "I did persuade Ser Gilbert, he has agreed to have his most loyal men ready for us to defend Jasper. What about you?"

"Ser Ronnet and Ser Loren are both unconvinced", Arya said, "however they do plan on having their men ready by the gate when Jasper returns just in case."

Edric nodded, "excellent, now we just need to hope that Jasper does not die in battle."

"He won't", Arya said quickly, "I've I know it, he just won't."


	26. ACOK Victarion III

"Did you hear the new Yara?" Victarion asked, as he sat in the Hightower of Oldtown, upon which now flew the Golden Kraken. The Ironborn had gutted much of the city, only the Citadel was left alone, for Maesters were useful, however those studying to become Maesters that had not been in the Citadel had perished, including a girl who had attempted to pass herself off as a boy to train, she has skin as dark as ebony, in all his years reaving, Victarion had seen fewer people bearing that skin tone than he had fingers. Yara sat opposite him, she had claimed the glory of capturing the Lord Hightower herself, as well as raising the flag, her men now raided up the Honeywine, and it appeared that the Reach host had not yet finished with the raids on the Mander, for the reavers were reporting little resistance. Yara swung her boots off the table, and looked Victarion in the eye.

"No", she said, slightly curious, "what news?"

"Your brother is home", he said, and Yara looked alarmed.

"But he was fighting for the wolves?"

"No longer", Victarion said, passing Yara Balon's letter. "He has returned and it seems he has not fully let go of the Ironborn ways."

"What do you mean?" Yara demanded?

"He and his ten longships", Victarion replied, indicating the bottom half of the letter, "deceived the Rivermen of Seagard, he landed there claiming he had an alliance with Robb Stark, then his men raided inland and destroyed the Twins' bridge and one of the towers."

Yara scoffed, "what was the purpose of that?"

Victarion sighed, 'not only did it gain him great riches, the loyalty of his captains, a reputation and many Salt Wives for him and his men", Victarion said, "but the destruction of the bridge means that Robb Stark will have far longer to go before he gets home, and now the North is ripe for the reaving."

Yara looked confused. "Does that mean that father is taking us from here to go to the North?" She asked, "there is virtually nothing in the North."

Victarion shook his head, reclaiming the letter. "there is no indication that Balon wishes us to return to the Iron Islands, let alone go North, but not all of the Ironborn are here."

"So we can continue our war down here?" Victarion nodded. "Good", Yara said viciously, "I will not have my brother outmatch me, he lost his Ironborn ways, but the Twins are nothing compared to Oldtown." Victarion raised his eyebrows, he did not say it, but they both know that, had the Iron Fleet not been there to help the attack, then Yara may well have lost too many men in the harbour to take Oldtown. The City Watch of Oldtown and the other forces, like Hightower knights, were able to kill around two thousand Ironborn, if the Ironborn longships had gone into the harbour alone, many of them would have been sunk, and those men could not have reached the shore. However, Victarion's orders to control the Ironborn attack of the Reach would seem to be harder to fulfil, for now Yara, who had been raised since Theon was taken away to be the future ruler of the Iron Islands, would be more daring in her pursuit of glory and riches of her own, for she did not want Theon in the way of her claim. However, Victarion would sooner sail to the end of the earth than allow a woman to rule the Iron Islands, they were not meant to rule them, that was the job of the Iron Kings, now the only question was whether Theon was worthy of being that king. "What will you do uncle?" Yara asked him, getting up from her seat.

"Do?" Victarion asked, "do about what?"

"Theon", Yara replied angrily.

"What about him?" Victarion asked coolly, "he will prove himself an Ironborn or not."

"But I am the Kraken's daughter", Yara declared, fuming slightly, "I should be the one to inherit the Iron Islands!"

"That remains to be seen", Victarion replied coolly, then he got up and moved over to the window, looking out towards the harbour and the Iron Fleet which was making ready to sail. "I have been here too long", he said, "I must return to the Shields, Wulf and Ralph have been harrying the Redwyne Fleet where possible, but I recently lost some ships. I must hunt down the fleet and destroy it." He turned back to Yara. "Remember niece", he said with a warning, "where does our strength come from?"

"The sea", Yara replied.

Victarion nodded. "Yes, and Oldtown is on land, do not be afraid to abandon Oldtown should the Reach come for it."

"I know", Yara said, "until then we shall raid up the Honeywine and claim more for the Ironborn."

Nodding in approval, Victarion made his way down the Hightower, eager to set sail once more. The ruins of Oldtown's Starry Sept could be seen as he exited the Hightower and made his way down the cobbled street, which had been gutted by the flames and was almost deserted, only a few drunk Ironborn and slightly more citizens of the city were there, it was not even too late in the evening, Victarion noted as the smallfolk scuttled back into their scorched brick houses and taverns at the sight of him, the Kraken helm under his arm and the war axe across his back. The Sept itself had been taken over, Drowned men who had accompanied the Ironborn were busy carving depictions of the Drowned God into the walls, and raising a statue of him where there once was one of the greenlander's Father. Victarion scoffed a little at the sight of it, the Drowned God was not at strength on land, Victarion praised their efforts, but knew that, when the men of the Reach came to reclaim Oldtown, the Ironborn would have to leave and the Sept would be rebuilt to the gods of the men of the mainland.

As Victarion turned a corner, taking the Starry Sept out of sight, he entered a street which had suffered the full wrath of Ironborn raiders, there were many who were now homeless, scattered across the street, the houses and buildings along the sides were in ruins, not one was still standing. He saw what looked like the carcass of a dog in the street, taking care to avoid it he noted that it had been torn apart, no doubt by the people around him who were starving, for the Ironborn were keeping the food for themselves. Victarion grimaced at the thought, the people were already beaten, they did not need to be made to suffer further. Those few who were in the centre of the street quickly scuttled aside, all bar one boy, who defiantly stared him down. Victarion paused in front of him, if he had been born on the Iron Islands, Victarion noted that the iron in his gaze would have made him a fine Ironborn reaver. But he had not, so Victarion pulled the axe from his back, flipped it around so that he was holding it close to the double blade, and nudged the boy aside, when the boy put up resistance, he pushed harder and the boy sprawled onto the street, allowing Victarion to continue to the harbour without interference. He heard something from behind and saw that a thin woman in rags was taking the boy away, no doubt his mother. Victarion remembered Lannisport after he had sunk the Lannister fleet at anchor. It was nothing like this, for at Lannisport they had destroyed the fleet and then left, leaving the city mostly untouched, here the prize had been the city, not the fleet in its harbour, so they took it. Those who lived on the mainland may call them savages for what they had done, but the Iron Price had been paid, this land was now Ironborn, and it was theirs now, until the Reach bought it back from them.

Victarion entered the harbour, where half of his fleet was stationed, the other half was out at Southshield, Victarion had told the captains that they were to remain there but not loot the land further, for it was Ironborn now, instead they were to await his return with the rest of the fleet before they turned south again. "Lord Captain", Victarion knew that it was Harras Harlaw. "The fleet is ready to sail on your order My Lord." Victarion nodded, then looked to the mouth of the harbour.

"What is happening out there?" He demanded, for at the mouth of the harbour was a huge unorganised mess of Ironborn longships. He knew why they were there, he had told them to recover any intact vessels and all the ship worthy lumber to be used to repair those that weren't, but they appeared to have been clogged up and were now stuck, blocking the way for Victarion to leave.

"I am not sure My Lord", Harras said tentatively, "but they have been there for a while."

Victarion scowled. "Get out there and move those ships, I want a path ready for the Iron Fleet before we cast off." Harras nodded, bowed, and raced along to his ship. As he left, Harren Pyke, a fine and obedient reaver, rushed over to him.

"My Lord, the men are itching to return to sea, to where do we sail?"

"First we return to Southshield", Victarion said, walking briskly now, for he had just caught sight of his ship and it sung out for him. "We collect the rest of the fleet from there and then we turn south."

"The Redwyne Fleet again?"

Victarion nodded, "in a way, I also intend to pick up Dagmer Cleftjaw's reavers from the Shield Islands", he explained, "now that he has retreated from the Mander, he needs a new target, I shall give him one."

Harren looked slightly confused. "My Lord Captain", he said, "the thirty longships under Dagmer's command may be filled with skilled Ironborn, but they are raiding ships, not war ships, they would be smashed to pieces by the Redwyne Fleet."

"Yes they will", Victarion agreed, "which is why they shall serve as both bait and vanguard of our force, they shall go in first and land on the Arbor, drawing the Redwyne ships in, then we catch them in our trap and take their fleet."

Harren's lips turned up in a smile that reached from ear to ear. "Battle upon the seas", he said, breathing deeply, "what we are made for." Victarion nodded. "But Lord Captain", Harren asked suddenly, "what about your nephew Theon?"

"Theon?" Victarion asked surprised. "What about him?"

"Our King has sent him south with some Longships to join us."

Victarion thought, now was a chance to disrupt Yara's plans to become Queen of the Ironborn once more. Oldtown was most certainly a prize, but the Arbor was greater. If he gave Theon command of the landing force, then he would be able to gain more glory than his sister, putting himself forward as a better candidate for the Seastone Chair when Balon returned to the Drowned God.

"Theon shall take command of the landing force", Victarion declared.

Harren looked alarmed by the proclamation. "But My Lord", he seemed hesitant to say what was on his mind.

"You have something you wish to say, so say it Harren", Victarion said calmly.

"My Lord, many Ironborn believe that Theon has spent too much time amongst the mainlanders", Harren said, "they do not feel that he is iron enough to lead them."

"Well I lead them against the Reach", Victarion replied, still calmly, "and any man who questions my Iron will return to the Drowned God much earlier than expected. Theon having spent time on the mainland will mean that he will know how to defeat them in battle". Harren nodded in acceptance, but still looked conflicted, so Victarion continued. "They will follow his commands or answer to me, in fact Harren, when we pick up Dagmer's Ironborn and Theon's as well, you will make sure they understand that."

"Yes Lord Captain." Harren left for his own ship as Victarion boarded the _Iron Victory_.

"Cast off!" Victarion called and his ship pushed away from the harbour , his rowers turning the ship until it was facing the bay, where Harras Harlaw appeared to have cleared the way for him, for the Longships were moving to the sides as Ralph's ship moved between them. Before long they had cleared the harbour and Victarion smelled the salt on the air as he set off; first for the Shield Islands, and then for battle.


	27. ACOK Jasper IV

Jasper could hear the marching of thirty thousand boots and the hoofbeats of seven thousand horses as he marched back towards Storm's End. After a series of small battles, Jasper had successfully managed to position his host against that of the Dornish on the Boneway, where speed and manoeuvrability meant little and the skill and discipline of the Stormlander foot could be brought to full effect, throwing the Dornish back. For now the Marcher Lords remained behind with their now mobilised hosts, for the Dornish had attacked so swiftly that they had caught the Marcher Lords before they could call up their men, meaning that most of them were in their villages and towns, and as such were available for calling up now that Jasper had forced the Dornish from the Marches. At the back of the column, where Jasper could not hear them, were ten carts filled with noble prisoners to be brought back to Storm's End to be kept prisoner until the Dornish bent the knee again.

Both his swords had shed blood in the battles, however Beric had claimed the best single combat victories of the war, for he had defeated both Obara Sand, the first of Oberyn"s bastard daughters, the Sand Sankes, killing her outside the walls of Nightsong when they had lifted the siege, and later claiming Ser Daemon Sand, Oberyn"s Squire and a close friend to the Martells, along with being one of the best swords in Dorne, as his prisoner, he was currently in the carts.

Just as he was reminiscing about this, Jasper heard Beric approach him. "So Jasper", Beric said, grining, "eager to see your bride to be?"

"Of course", Jasper replied, smiling back at Beric, wondering how Arya would be doing now. "Hopefully she hasn't caused too much trouble since I've been gone."

Beric shrugged, "I'm not sure", he said, "Ser Cortnay hasn't had to deal with the likes of her."

Jasper nodded solemnly, "very true, it would probably be easier to rule the Stormlands than to keep Arya on a leash."

"And he has been doing both", Beric replied, giving a mock shudder, which made Devan, who was on Jasper's other side, laugh a little. They continued on in silence, for Storm's End was nearby and Jasper was eager to see it again, his heart was fluttering a little at the thought of being home once more, and also at the thought of seeing Arya again. He did not have to wait long, for Storm's End emerged into view when they left the Rainwood.

Jasper had to hold himself back from spurring his horse on to a full gallop, that would be unlordly of him, but even as he was trying to do so, Lord Ralph Buckler and Ser Balon Swann came up to him on their horses. "My Lord", Ser Balon said, "we shall take the host onwards and set up camp if you wish."

Lord Ralph Buckler nodded, "you clearly wish to get home quickly."

"It's okay", Jasper said, smiling, "I can wait a little longer."

"Actually you may not be able to Jasper", Devan said pointing out to Storm's End. Jasper followed his squire's finger and felt his heart drop. An orange glow was coming from the fortress, illuminating the darkening sky, a fire.

"Go My Lord", Ralph Buckler said.

Jasper nodded, "Lord Buckler, you have the command, Beric, Balon, Rolland, Guyard, Robar, Devan, with me!" Jasper spurred his horse, the knights he had formed the closest bonds with over the campaign, who were calling themselves the Stormguard, were Beric Storm, Balon Swann, Rolland Storm, bastard of Nightsong, Robar Royce, the second son of Lord Yohn Royce of the Vale and Guyard Morrigen, and they all spurred their horses into action, following Jasper's lead as he raced off towards Storm's End. He galloped hard, trying to picture where the fire was. Based on the location, it appeared to be the stables, hopefully the horses weren't in it in significant number. As he approached the gate, it swung open, the portcullis raising.

He raced inside, whilst most of the guards seemed to be off dealing with the fire, there were still some who were not, mostly the retinues of the Lords who remained behind, although Jasper noted that Ser Ronnet was not there, presumably he was doing the right thing and aiding in eliminating the fire. The men of those lords were camped around the northern side of Storm's End, if Jasper remembered correctly from the last time, so it made sense that he had not seen them. The Lords themselves were also present in mail, so they had probably been just about to train, since they all looked fresh, Jasper assumed they hadn't already. As he dismounted they bowed and Arya emerged at the top of the steps, Needle and Nymeria at either side and Edric behind you, a sword at his hip.

Arya raced up to Jasper as he dismounted and he barely caught her as she slammed into him, her arms wrapping around him and his armour. "Okay Arya", Jasper said, pushing her away, normally he would have used that opportunity, but he was in armour, which was uncomfortable, and his stables were currently on fire. "I need to go see this an-." He could not continued his sentence for Arya had pulled him down and kissed him on the lips, surprising Jasper immensely.

Arya pulled away and, just as Jasper was about to ask what that was for, she whispered, "they are going to kill you."

"Arya I have to deal with the stables", Jasper said, then what Arya said registered. "What?" He asked loudly. Arya's eyes flitted to the men around them who, at a nod from Ser Cortnay, who emerged in full battle regalia, drew their swords. Jasper heard Beric, Rolland, Guyard and Balon all stop talking and look around in alarm. A clatter from behind announced that the portcullis came rattling down, and some of Cortnay's men emerged from the gatehouse.

"What is this treason?" Jasper demanded

"No treason My Lord", Ser Cortnay said, "We simply fight for our king."

The men charged and Jasper had still not registered what was happening. A knight came at him with a raised sword, and Jasper desperately tried to get his own sword out in time, but he could not. As he was about to close his eyes and await the death blow, Arya leapt forward, needle and shortsword out, plunging the former through a gap in the knight's armour all the way to the hilt. Jasper finally got his swords out and began fighting the enemy knights, who outnumbered them many to one. He parried one knight's slash with his longsword whilst plunging his shortsword into the chest of another, he did not tend to fight withboth his swords at once, but he needed every weapon he could get. The Stormguard had apparently not been so slow, for their weapons were out and they were fighting fiercely, but there were still close to fifty enemies, and Jasper recognised Brienne, the maid of Tarth and a skilled fighter amongst them. He knew they could not win, this was a fight doomed to failure, but he would not go out without punishing as many of these traitors as possible. Cold fury clouded Jasper's mind as he fought knight after knight. He smashed the sword of the next knight to attack him aside and thrust his shortsword into his throat, relishing the choking sounds that came from him. Then he jumped between one knight and Arya, who was already busy against another knight. He parried the blows of the knight, but then Nymeria charged and savaged the man, Jasper, feeling something, spun and decapitated a knight who was behind him with High Justice, blood spurted into the air and landed on him. He looked around, despite the successes they had endured, he could tell that they were about to be overwhelmed.

But, Jasper heard simultaneous cries of, "TO THE PRINCE!" and "TO LORD JASPER!" From around one corner of Storm's End came Ronnet Connington, armour on, sword out followed by his retainers, and Ser Loren Jast and the Lannister guardsmen that his mother had insisted accompany them. Also, from Storm's End's drum tower itself came dozens of guardsmen bearing the Baratheon sigil, Ser Gilbert Farring at their head. Then the battle was over swiftly. Of the fifty seven men who had attacked Jasper, only a dozen survived, including all the lords and the Maid of Tarth. Some of the guardsmen had fallen, but his knights were all alive. At the last minute, one of Lord Lonmouth"s men thrust a spear at him which pierced his side lightly, causing Jasper to yell in pain. But it was short lived, for the spear had barely pierced him, and Beric ran the man through just afterwards.

Jasper looked around as he gripped the injury, pulling his hand away to see only a tiny amount of blood on it. "Take them to the Great Hall", Jasper said quaking with fury at the treason that had been enacted by his castellan. The traitors were dragged away by the guardsmen, and Jasper turned to Arya. "Thank you", he said, pulling her into a tight hug, "you saved my life." Nymeria gave a whine and Jasper petted her as well.

"You saved mine once", Arya whispered back. Jasper laughed, kissed the top of Arya's head and turned to his other saviours, Edric, who had killed two knights in the battle, albeit, one from behind; Ronnet, who's blade was more bloody than anyone else's, Loren and Gilbert.

"It seems I must thank you as well", Jasper said, bowing his head in respect, "come to the great hall and I shall reward you as I punish the traitors."

"Thank you my lord", they said, as Jasper entered the hall himself, wanting to change from his armour first, but deciding to get the judging and sentencing over with before he got his armour off and he changed.

He sat down in his chair and looked at the bound men before him, as well as those who had saved him. He would start with the rewards for those who had saved him. First however, he would have to know the whole story. "Edric", he called out, "step forward", Edric did so, bowing once he reached the centre of the hall. "Please explain exactly what happened here, briefly as well, I wish to get out of this armour as soon as possible."

Edric nodded. "One night several weeks ago, Arya couldn't sleep, so she decided to walk the castle, when she did she overheard a plot to take your life, she persuaded me to help her so we tried to work out what was happening, when we learned that it was Ser Cortnay's plot, we were unsure of what to do, in the end we decided to get others on our side, so we told Ser Gilbert and Ser Loren of the plot, Ser Ronnet was supposed to be in it but refused to, so we persuaded him to join us as well. We knew they would strike when you returned from the battle with the Dornish, so we made sure we were there as well." Edric bowed and returned to his position.

Jasper contemplated the story, so it seemed he had to thank Arya doubly. "Very well then", Jasper said, trying to get comfortable, but it was impossible in armour. "Edric, I reward you by making you squire to Ser Beric, with promise of a knighthood, and I shall also provide you with a horse, sword and armour when you are knighted."

"Thank you Jasper", Edric replied, smiling widely.

Jasper nodded, "Ser Ronnet", Red Ronnet Connington stepped forward. "I believe that your house lost some of it's lands to Houses Rogers and Lonmouth, is that correct?"

"Yes My Lord", Ronnet said, bowing.

"Then I restore them to you and your house, returning you to lordly status within the Stormlands."

Red Ronnet bowed low clearly grateful. "Thank you, My Lord", he said.

"Ser Gilbert", his loyal captain of the guards stepped forwards. "I now name you Castellan in the place of Ser Cortnay", he declared, whenever I am not present in Storm's End, you shall rule in my name." Jasper did not award him with more because if he paid him then Ser Gilbert might expect money for future services that should have been done anyway, just as this was, for the captain of the guards should defend their lord.

"Ser Loren", the head of the Lannister column stepped forward. "Ask a boon of me, and I shall grant it."

Loren bowed, "allow me to fight in the vanguard of your next battle my lord", Ser Loren said, "I wish some glory in this war yet."

"Granted", Jasper declared, then he turned to the traitors. "For the crime of treason against your liege lord, I hereby sentence you who took part in such treachery to be banished to the Wall. You wished to serve your realm by putting Renly on the Throne, you can serve it by protecting them from the Wildlings."

"What of Lady Brienne?" Edric asked, "there are no women on the Wall."

Jasper thought, what would he do to Brienne, the problem with her was that her father was a significant bannerman of his. "I shall hold judgement on Lady Brienne until a sufficient one can be devised", Jasper said, waving his hand and the prisoners were taken to the dungeons for now. Jasper got up, a relief for his arse, "this meeting is adjourned", Jasper declared as he made his way to his room. When he was there, Devan stripped him of his armour, and Jasper dressed in a new tunic and britches.

Just after he was finished, maester Varwyn entered his chambers. "My Lord", he said bowing, "I thought you would be interested in knowing the events that took place in your absence."

Jasper nodded, "anything significant?"

"Renly Baratheon and his host have entered the Crownlands and began fording the Blackwater Rush two days ago", maester Varwyn said. "Without your help, the city will fall, for Lord Tywin is in the Westerlands."

Jasper's face darkened, "my _brother_", he spat, "made it very clear that, should I return to the city again, I would die."

Varwyn sighed. "Before deciding to allow your siblings and mother to die, for they are all in the city", Varwyn said patiently, "this arrived from Stannis." He held out a letter and Jasper took it. Opening it, three words written in the hand of his mentor. Three words that Jasper did not wish to read.


	28. ACOK Robb I

Robb was fuming, his hands constantly twitching, news of Theon's treachery had reached them days before, yet he had still been unable to forgive himself. He had sent Theon to the Iron Islands in order to forge a common front against their enemies, and King Balon had thrown that in his face and attacked him, sending Theon to sack the Twins, more than doubling the distance Robb would have to go in order to get home from where he was now, Riverrun, as he continued to war against the Lannister hosts on the far side of the Golden Tooth. They were not moving however, instead they were waiting behind fortifications, gradually reinforcing with sellswords and the dregs of Lannisport, green boys and farm hands, as well as those old enough to have been in the vanguard against the Mad King and the Ninepenny Kings. He had been forced to send the Mallisters home to defend the coasts against the Ironborn should they raid again. Thankfully, he still had more than enough men to hold the Golden Tooth against Tywin Lannister.

Robb was at Wayfarer's Rest, the closest Riverlands castle to the Golden Tooth. The Northern host was camped outside it as he decided what moves to make now that Tywin Lannister was out of the Riverlands. The Riverlords' hosts were stationed at Riverrun further inland, although the lords themselves were arriving one by one. Indeed, Robb was only waiting for Ser Wylis Wode, who was leading the men of Harrenhal, to join them. When he did, he finally got the council assembled in the Great Hall of Warfarer's Rest to discuss how the war would progress.

"Tywin Lannister must be made to pay", declared Marq Piper, slamming a gauntleted fist on the table. "We should circumvent the Golden Tooth by going south, with the Reach unoccupied, we can enter the soft underbelly of the Westerlands."

Some of the Riverlords agreed with him, but Tytos Blackwood had something else to say. "Attacking Tywin Lannister gives him the advantages, all of them", Robb noted that he was one of the more cautious commanders after the Skirmish along the Red Fork, where he had lost many men. "The pressure is on him to attack, we should reinforce this side of the Tooth and bleed him when he launches his next attack,"

The Riverlords were divided along those lines, Robb noticed, they all wanted their vengeance upon Tywin Lannister for the damage he had wrought in the western Riverlands during his retreat. However, Robb knew that, whilst defeating Tywin would be a boon, King's Landing was the objective, and currently there was already a host moving against it. The host of Renly Baratheon. No one was of any doubt that he would be victorious, for he had a huge force and it was fresh and unblooded. Following the defeat of the Capital, Robb was relying on Jasper claiming the throne so that the war in the south continued, giving him more freedom, particularly to march against the capital whilst battles were raging in the Stormlands.

Lord Bolton was also thinking along those lines it seemed. "We should march east", he said, standing forward so all may see him. "His grace's mother is trying to gain an alliance with the Vale, if they succeed, the war is all but won, if not, then we can still prepare to march on the weakened capital." That plan seemed to have the approval of the Northern lords and arguments broke out between the lords of the two regions of his Kingdom over which strategy to take. Robb rubbed his stubble, wishing that his mother were there to give him some advice, or better yet, his father. He settled for stroking Grey Wind's head softly.

"Eventually Lannister's Lion will make a mistake", said Lord Stevron Frey, who had kept his host with the main force, despite the destruction of his home and much of his family. "The longer we frustrate him, the more likely that mistake will be, marching against him is a mistake."

"I agree", said Ser Edmure, "we must force Lord Tywin to react to us, rather than the other way around, if we march against him, we will be reacting to his retreat. March east, and he will be forced to react to our march." Robb's eyebrows raised, such thinking was more akin to Brynden than Edmure.

Robb looked over the Riverlords, they did not seem content with the suggestion, and Robb wished that Brynden had said it, for it was Brynden's skill and experience that would inspire them to follow what he said, rather than Edmure's inexperience, for, apart from minor skirmishes of a few hundred men, he had no experience what so ever. Brynden on the other hand had made a name for himself fighting the Blackfyres in the War of the Ninepenny Kings, and then later in Robert's Rebellion he had fought the Targaryens. Of all the soldiers in the Riverlands, he probably had the most experience. The only two who could match it were Lord Hoster, who was ill and infirm, and Jason Mallister, who was at Seagard. "We cannot leave our western lands open to the Lannisters by marching East." Declared Jonos Bracken, who's lands had suffered under Lannister occupation.

"Well we cannot remain here forever", retorted Tytos Blackwood. The rivalry between the houses of Bracken and Blackwood had not been helped by their lack of unity when they faced Tywin Lannister along the Red Fork. The arguments went on and on, circling in an endless fashion, and all the while, Robb listened to all of the advice and suggestions, deciding on the better courses of action from each and trying to work all of them into his plan of action for the war. It was then that a messenger arrived and passed Robb a letter, it bore the seal of Harrenhal, so Robb slit the seal and unfolded the letter. His eyes widened as he got further through it. He patted Grey Wind, who knew what his master wanted, and howled, gaining the attention of every lord in the room.

Robb sighed and looked up at them all. "Renly has moved faster than anticipated, his host crossed the Blackwater Rush, sixty thousand men at arms are now descending on the capital and it shall fall within the week." Silence fell upon the room.

The GreatJon declared to the whole room, "from there, he shall almost certainly march on Harrenhal to defeat us", he strode up to Jasper, "your grace I-" Robb held out a hand to cut him off.

He stood from the high chair and all looked at him. "Then we must take position in order to defend Harrenhal, I shall lead our host east."

"But Your Grace", Ser Brynden said, "what of the Golden Tooth?"

"You shall have the command of the Riverlords, Ser Brynden", Robb declared, "should Tywin Lannister try to return, you shall bleed him white, and then remove his head." Ser Brynden nodded, and stepped back as Robb stared at his lords, who were all looking up to him. "Ready the men", he called out, "we march at dawn!"

Cheers met him as he descended from the high chair and returned to his chambers.

When there, he found a letter awaiting him on his table. It bore the seal of Storm's End. He looked around, to see if anyone was there who might have put it there. He picked it up and sat down at the edge of the bed, wondering what Jasper was contacting him about. When he opened it, he saw that it was not from Jasper at all, but Arya.

_Robb_

_I was only just able to slip out and write this to you, there was commotion at Storm's End, I will not explain it now, but now Jasper is marching again, he is leaving along the Western Road towards the Reach, the Dornish Marches and other places, but I am afraid I do not know where he is going. He received a letter from Stannis Baratheon that seemed to unnerve him, it unsettled him anyway for he was gone within two days, where he is going I suspect only he knows. _

_I hope you are well, we have not heard much here of what you have been doing, but we have not heard you are dead, so that is a good thing. _

_I am fine, Nymeria as well, Jasper has been a good host to use when he has been here, although I suspect he would not be happy about me sending this raven off. _

_I know it will be hard for you to reply to this, so I do not expect you to, but I had to send this off, I do not know when we will speak again, but I believe that we will. _

_Fare Well Robb, and if you get the chance, kill Joffrey for me._

_Your Sister_

_Arya_

Robb slowly closed the letter. Wherever Jasper had marched to there was no way he would reach them before he found out. More than that, he was glad that Arya was okay. Now he just had to hope that Renly Baratheon had some honor when he stormed King's Landing.


	29. ACOK Tyrion III

Tyrion was meeting with his commanders one last time. Reports had reached them from their outriders, who were harrying Renly's host wherever possible, that he was less than a day from the city. Outside the Red Keep, the City Watch and the rest of the defenders were rushing about. Civilian volunteers were bringing water and food to the walls for the men and were wheeling the catapults into position. The commanders for the battle would be himself in overall command, The Hound and Jacelyn Bywater would lead the main force of troops and the sellswords were outside the walls, they were to harry Renly's host wherever available, but Tyrion would not have them inside the walls so they could open the gate for Renly the minute the battle turned against them. All were around the table and all were looking grim. In fairness to the Hound though, he always looked grim. "Is the wildfire in position?" Tyrion asked.

"Yes My Lord", Ser Jacelyn replied, "it has been put just where you wanted it to be". Tyrion nodded, that was good. He had taken the advie of Jasper's sworn shield in the end. The Wildfire could not be used in the city so, as soon as they had heard that Renly was close they had taken the Wildfire out of the city, well, most of it any way, and then poured it on the ground, hoping to incinerate Renly's host as it approached the walls. The rest of the wildfire Tyrion had ordered to be placed into throwing pots so that they could use it on any rams or siege towers that Renly used to approach the walls and take them.

"And the men?"

"All where they are needed", Ser Jacelyn said.

Tyrion was about to ask about the catapults but then the bells started ringing. They all looked out the window, which only provided a view of the north of the city, it seemed like the bells were rung incorrectly, but then the first of the banners and the smoke kicked up by a marching host crossed from the west and into view. Many banners, and much smoke. "Well then", Tyrion said, "it is time for us to go to battle". Tyrion ordered the others out as Podric Payne entered with his armour and battleaxe.

When he was equipped, Tyrion made his way to the walls, even though he knew the numbers, and the fact that nearly half of Renly"s host had been sent back to the Reach to repel the Ironborn. The size of Renly's rapidly erected encampment did nothing to lessen Tyrion's nerves, it was huge, the numbers of men and horses even more so. Every single house of the Reach appeared to have representatives here, there were siege towers, catapults, turtles, scorpions, ballistae, battering rams and more siege engines whose names that Tyrion had read and diagrams he had seen escaped him. But what perhaps scared Tyrion more was the sight of Joffrey on the battlements, resplendent in fine armour, wielding a new sword that he had named Hearteater, although it was no Valyrian Steel sword, which Joffrey had been upset about, ever since Jasper had been gifted High Justice, all he had was a Valyrian Steel dagger, inherited from his father who won it from Baelish. Thankfully, Joffrey seemed to be staring at the host arrayed against the walls, rather than issuing orders which could ruin Tyrion's battleplan.

Tyrion issued no new orders as his men got into position. He knew Renly would not send anyone to negotiate. He had yet to win a battle, and unless his legitimised his weak claim with victory on the battlefield, then people would never see him as the true king. Sure enough, he did not have to wait long as Renly's first wave of ladder bearing foot began to charge the walls. Strange as it was to think it, it was actually Joffrey who got the first kill of the battle, shooting one of the enemy in the chest with his crossbow. "Loose", Tyrion called out, then he turned to Podric, "spread the word that the king made the first kill", he said in a whisper, Tyrion hoped this would mean morale would rise amongst the defenders. The arrows soared at the enemy, although most missed several enemies fell, slowing the progress of the ladder bearers as they now had more weight to bare each. However, before the ladders had even reached the walls, the next wave of enemy soldiers began to move, this wave consisted of two siege towers, three rams and many more soldiers behind them to keep the pressure up on the defenders. However, before long it was the ladders at the wall, however luckily it was the stretch of wall at the next tower. "Clegane", Tyrion said, and the Hound turned to him. "Clear that wall". The Hound nodded and set off at a brisk pace with his men to keep that section of the wall clear.

He gripped his axe tighter, just in case the ladders arrived at this section of the wall, but he was also watching the siege towers close in on them and was waiting for them to pass a ring of white stones, which had been placed out the night before, along with the Wildfire, marking the effective range of the catapults. "Ready catapults!" He called out and the stones were loaded up, he could hear the winches working behind him. He watched and, when the two siege towers crossed the white stones, he called out, "launch!" The four stones flew over the boundary of the wall, none of them hitting either of the towers, but instead falling amongst the men of the Reach behind them. "Launch when ready!" He yelled as sounds of steel on steel reached them from the next section of wall. He did not want to have to order the catapults to fire whenever they were ready, he just needed as many rocks flying towards the reachmen as possible.

He looked over at the rams, noticing that they were making their way towards the Dragon Gate, the Old Gate and the Iron Gate. "Lord Jacelyn", Tyrion called out, and the commander of the goldcloaks appeared. "Make sure the guards on the Dragon Gate, Old Gate and Iron Gate destroy those rams with the Wildfire pots", Jacelyn nodded and sent his riders off to pass along the orders. "Arms", Tyrion called, as the Siege Tower approached. "Ser Meryn", Tyrion ordered the Kingsguard, "take the king to safety", the knight nodded and brought the king down below the wall. However, that was unnecessary, for, as the siege tower line up to make the last push towards the wall, a boulder from the catapults punched right through the ramp, making it useless as a siege tower since they couldn't get from it onto the walls. A great cheer went up from the defenders and Tyrion ordered thirty more guards across to assist the Hound, for the other siege tower was approaching the wall.

Next, Tyrion looked over at Renly's host, and saw that the next wave, several thousand men, was marching on them. He knew that if Renly kept up this tactic then he would overwhelm them in two more waves at most, for all those men brought fresh ladders with them and Renly had sent out a third siege tower to replace the one that was just lost. He had to cause a break in the battle. Just as he was thinking this, a ladder appeared on the wall and Tyrion scrambled to ready his axe, yelling out for his men to be ready as well. When the first reachman's head poked over the top of the wall, Tyrion sank his axe into his face. "For King's Landing!" He roared, and the men took up the cry as they also began cutting down the reachmen. Tyrion fought his way clear, he had to find a group of free archers, and he found one at the end of the wall. "Ready flaming arrows", he ordered when he arrived, and they retrieve arrows with cloth on the end, lit them in a nearby brazier and waited for his orders. "Draw", he ordered them, waiting for the Reach wave to get in position. "Loose", he said when they were. Four flaming arrows soared into the air, flying towards the new reachmen.

They found their mark as the entire reachmen wave went up in flames. An emerald conflagration that engulfed them all, searing flesh and melting it from their bones. Tyrion had often wondered what Aegon the Conqueror had felt when he had unleashed his dragons upon the Field of Fire, now he knew, he was transfixed, despite the burning horrors that were once people stumbling, screaming from the flames, Tyrion could not remove his eyes from the scene. Like the luck of the gods it was at that moment when the nearest ram, the one attacking the Dragon's gate, went up in flames, terrifying most of the Reachmen nearby. Arrows rained down upon them as they looked around, terrified and directionless. Those that managed to muster up the willpower to scale the ladders met grizzly ends and Wildfire engulfed the siege tower at the wall, Renly's replacement burning out in the fields.

Tyrion allowed himself a sigh of relief as the last of Renly's first assault had been cut down. Renly himself could not order another until the Wildfire had cleared up, and the Pyromancers had assured Tyrion that that would take several hours. He set his axe down and sat down next to it. Then, for reasons he could not fathom, he started weeping.

It was early evening by the time the Wildfire had even started to abate. During this time, Tyrion had sent many men on scouting missions around the wall, but it seemed Renly was intent to attack only from the north and north-east, in other words the length of wall he was already facing. He had been confused as to why he hadn't also besieged along the east, but Ser Jacelyn had explained it to him.

"He knows we do not have the numbers to sally out and attack him, and if he put his men against the Blackwater Rush then they could be trapped against it by reinforcements, should they come", Tyrion had scoffed at the last comment, only Jasper could have provided reinforcements, but he had been insulted by Joffrey and threatened with death should he return to the city. Tyrion would not have blamed him for not coming, apart from the fact that without him, Tyrion himself would die, for Renly would have no qualms about putting his head on a spike.

Joffrey had been his usual self, strutting around proclaiming victory, even though the battle was far from won and there was still most of Renly's host confronting them, and they would be out for vengeance and blood after the Wildfire had incinerated their friends.

Sure enough, before long the fires had burnt out, leaving blackened grass to mark out the crescent shape of the Wildfire, it looked more brown in the last of the evening light though, Tyrion thought as he called out for the men to prepare for the enemy's attack.

The attack was huge, Renly seemed to have forgone the waves strategy and had sent many thousands of men, at least ten thousand, but probably more, straight for the city walls, amongst them a dozen siege towers and two dozen rams. Turtles covered archers, who started to fire as soon as they got within range, their arrows flying over the wall, one of them grazing Joffrey's cheek. He shrieked in pain and Ser Meryn and Ser Boros escorted Joffrey from the battlefield, sending ripples of terror into the men around him. Tyrion knew he had to act fast and he called out to the men.

"Soldiers! Your King may leave you, he may return to the Holdfast of Maegor intent to wait out this siege. But I shall stand with you, I shall stand against these reachmen who want to kill us all, rape our women and enslave our daughters and sons. Run along also if you will, but remember this, he who runs shall be forever marked as less of a man than I, the halfman! Those of you who run, you may live, and if you do, what then, should these reachmen win, then you will ask yourself, many years from now, why you chose to run away and allow a man who rapes boys for his entertainment become king. Or you can stand with me!" Tyrion roared. He turned, axe in hand as a roar of anger and defiance arose from the defenders and they surged to defend the walls as the ladders and towers approached.

The first tower dropped its bridge and many men of the reach poured out. Tyrion hacked off the leg of the first to come near him, then he brought his axe down, sinking it into his opponent's chest, relishing the feeling when he felt it squelch out. He ducked the next sword swing that tried to take his head off, chopping away at the man multiple times until his axe ran red, more blood stained his Lannister armour as the reachmen were cut down by the vengeful defenders until one defender threw a wildfire pot into the siege tower, the emerald flames lighting up the night as the reachmen were denied one method of reaching the wall. However, over the din of battle, Tyrion heard the splintering of wood and, with horror gripping his heart, he looked down to see goldcloaks grappling and fighting in a swirling melee of swords spears and axes as the Reachmen had broken through the Dragon's Gate and their heavy horse had charged through the gate. Tyrion turned to see Ser Mandon standing near him. He was about to demand that the knight rejoin the fight when he raised his sword and sliced. Tyrion felt the blade cut through his face and froze, his mind went black. He did not know how to react to that, and, as Ser Mandon raised his sword again, Tyrion felt a kind of peace, but then a spear protruded from Ser Mandon's chest and the knight slumped and fell into the melee around the Dragon's Gate. Podric had slain the knight and rushed over, catching Tyrion as he fell. Tyrion could only register the sounds of battle, sword on sword, steel on steel, cries echoing against cries, the charging of feet and the thundering of hooves and the sound of blaring warhorns.

Then blackness engulfed him.


	30. ACOK Sansa I

Sansa was waiting with the Royal Family in the Throne Room of the Red Keep, darkness was engulfing the windows and they were almost all in states of silence. The queen had ordered them all to the throne room after the messenger had arrived telling them that the gate had been breached, and no one knew what had happened to Lord Tyrion. She was insistent that Joffrey sit upon the Iron Throne, King to the last, she sat beside him whilst Sansa, Tommen and Myrcella sat upon the steps near to the throne. Sansa held Tommen and Myrcella close, she had been holding them and comforting them throughout the evening, but it seemed like their hopes would not be answered. However, they were not the only ones there. Master of Coin Lancel Lannister had gathered the last loyal knights and guardsmen of House Lannister, as well as the Kingsguard's last three members, Ser Meryn, Ser Boros and Ser Preston, with The Hound, Ser Mandon and Ser Arys at the wall. They were to make a heroic stand against the invaders before they all fell.

Myrcella was weeping, and Tommen was too, Sansa whispered, "shhh", to them, kissing their golden hair softly. "Everything will be fine", she whispered, "I will not let them touch you."

"Promise?" Little Tommen asked.

"I promse", Sansa said, smiling at him.

"Lady Sansa", Myrcella whispered, "if you had one wish right now, what would it be?"

Sansa did not even have to think about it, "I wish I could be home, at Winterfell." She smiled at Myrcella, "what about you Myrcella?"

"I want Jasper", she said quietly, "I want to see him again." Tears were coming to Myrcella's eyes, and Sansa hugged her close.

Sansa nodded, "what about you Tommen?" She asked.

"I want my cat", Tommen said softly, yet strongly as well. _He would have been a better king_. Sansa thought, _better than Joffrey by far_. Despite the situation, Sansa laughed a little.

"Remember everyone", the Queen said into the silence that followed, "when they come in, be silent, let the guards fight and be silent, when they take you away, be silent, make no noise."

No one answered the queen's orders, the guards remained staring at the door.

It was then that they started hearing more sounds, firstly was the sound of the drawbridge being lowered, which they could hear due to the silence of the room. It was strange how much you could hear at night, when the darkness engulfed the Red Keep. The last of the Orange left the sky as true night fell upon them. Next they heard the gate open and hordes of footsteps come charging through. "The guards have switched sides", the queen muttered. "They seek to remain alive and free as traitors rather than die as loyalists to you, my beloved son", she spoke the last words to Joffrey, who looked truly terrified, Sansa had never thought to see that expression on his face, but he was, it gave her a certain satisfaction. The footsteps kept pouring through, hundreds after hundreds there must have been entering the keep, tearing down Lannister banners and putting up Baratheon and Tyrell ones in their place. That made Sansa think back to the Lord Renly she had known before all the bad things started, before her father was killed and the war began. When she had just arrived in King's Landing, a little bird as the Hound had put it.

"What will they do?" Myrcella asked.

"Nothing", Sansa confirmed, fiercely, "they will do nothing because I won't let them do anything." She rubbed Myrcella's trembling arm, her soft pale skin shuddering in fear.

The footfalls were getting closer and closer, but there was no sound of battle, it seemed that the Queen was right, the guards had betrayed them to spare their own lives, it seemed only these few in the room were loyal to them. They heard doors banging open as rooms were searched, all the while, the sounds were approaching the Throne Room. Sure enough, with a mighty crash the doors burst open, and two knights entered, in full battle armour, shining with silver and coated in splashes of blood. Behind them came scores of men, who filed in neatly, also looking battleworn, they bore many different sigils, and Sansa knew that Renly had come.

"Put down your blades", one of the knights called, his voice muffled by his closed helm visor, and, to the amazement of Sansa, and others too based on their expression, he sheathed his own sword. "No one else dies today." Then Renly arrived, Sansa remembered Jasper unhorsing him at the tournament of the Hand, his green and gold armour was shining brightly in the sun that day, but now, in the darkness of the night and following the battle, his armour looked back, his antlers looked darker and his sword was gone. They had heard tell of how Renly was claiming that his brother had taken the seven kingdoms with his warhammer and it seemed that he was trying to do the same, but with his sword, for it was unsheathed and, underneath the muck, blood and dust that coated his blade, it shone with a certain light. Tyrion had said that Renly was unlikely to attack himself, but rather to leave it to others, it seemed that he had been wrong, as wrong as he had been when he had said that the city could hold against Renly.

"You will not take us easily", the Queen declared. But Sansa was looking at Renly, fear gripping her tightly, he must have been a certain kind of evil, for even in the faint light of torches that were being lit by the men, he still looked to be in black armour, and as he sheathed his sword to his black scabbard, he did not seem to be making any threats to them, the knights bearing dozens of individual sigils, including nightingales, buckles, hay bales, tortoises, swans and many others. She vaguely recognised some of them from the Tourney of the Hand, but she could not remember the names of them if she wanted to, but she was not sure if she wanted to know the names of those who would ravish her and slit her throat. The only defence she had were a few swordsmen and Lancel, that was it, and they would not last long against the Knight of the Flowers, who, as Renly's best knight, would no doubt be there soon, he was probably busy defeating the rest of Joffrey's men, including the Kingsguard at the wall, even Ser Arys, whom Sansa regarded as a good man and knight, and a Kingsguard, to die for his king.

However, Renly seemed to be as courteous as before, for he did not draw his sword or order his men to attack and take them. However, Ser Lancel then raised his sword as though he were about to attack, but Jasper held up one hand to stop him "there will be no need for that", he said, reaching up and un-strapping his helm. "The host of the Reach has broken and fled, taking their king with it", he declared finally lifting his helm of his head to reveal dark blue eyes and black hair that fell to the base of his neck, all features of Renly, apart from a rather square jaw. "The battle is won."

"Jasper", Myrcella cried and she broke free of Sansa and raced up to him. Everyone else was still in shock, Ser Lancel's blade actually fell from his hand and clattered on the floor, as Jasper knelt and hugged his sister tightly. Myrcella whispered something Sansa could not hear and Jasper rubbed her back consolingly.

He then leant back, and looked his sister in the face. "Lose your tears Myrcella", Jasper said softly, "they are unbefitting of you and take away from your beauty", Jasper leaned in and, judging from the silver trails on Myrcella's cheeks being where he kissed her, he kissed her tears away. "You are safe, now and forever."

He turned just in time to catch Tommen, who had also broken free of Sansa and raced to his brother. Sansa, the Queen and Joffrey were stunned into inaction, still not having moved, the queen's mouth was hanging open, just as it had when Jasper had first taken off his helm.

Jasper then stood up and approached the steps. "Mother", Jasper greeted, bowing at the waist. Cersei drifted down the steps ethereally, in a manner worthy of the most beautiful woman in the seven kingdoms, and, when she reached him, wrapped her arms around Jasper and held him close. After releasing his mother, Jasper, decidedly not looking at Joffrey approached Sansa. "My Lady", he said, bowing his head. "Are you well?"

Sansa nodded and, not caring that Joffrey was right there, or that Jasper was covered in muck and blood, she threw her arms around him. There, for the first time in months, she felt safe.


	31. ACOK Jasper V

Jasper, despite his previous thoughts about never wanting to see King's Landing again, was glad to be back. It had been a week since he had driven Renly away from the city, capturing many knights and lords and smashing the levies of his host, securing the city for his brother. The plan Jasper and Stannis had come up with together was one that combined the strengths of the two forces, Stannis' navy and Jasper's host. Stannis had lines his ships up from bank to bank, connecting them with wooden planks to create a bridge. It took around twenty five ships to effectively bridge the gap and, with the one hundred and fifty ships from Dragonstone being used to make the bridge, he had six bridges across the rush, across which his foot poured. The fifty ships of King's Landing were used to rapidly ferry the horse across the rush behing them. Using these crossing methods, Jasper had been able to rapidly cross the rush with his host. Then he gave Stannis command of the foot and took command of the horse himself, knowing that it would require at least two strikes to break Renly's vast host. Stannis and the foot, who had crossed the Rush first, struck out and around, striking Renly's rearguard and camps at the same time as Jasper and his horse rode around the walls and scythed his way through the flanks of Renly's frontline. Renly had neglected to deploy scouts next to the river, he had clearly thought that the Dornish would keep him at the very least occupied until he had taken the city. At the height of the battle, Jasper and his Stormguard, which had been expanded to include Ser Loren Jast and Robar Royce, clashed with Renly's vanguard, where Jasper had fought his common tournament opponent, Loras Tyrell, who was in command of the vanguard, in single combat. He had struck Ser Loras down that day, High Justice carving deep into his chest from a diagonal slash to Loras' shoulder, carving though his body and reaching his heart. After the death of Loras, the rest of Renly's vanguard had broken and fled, and Jasper, although he wanted to pursue and reach Renly, he did not, for the rest of Renly's Kingsguard put many footmen in between them and him, which would have been a perilous assault under any circumstances, and he also had to deal with the Tyrell men who had broken through the Old Gate and the Dragon's Gate and were, at that point, occupying much of the city, he also had to make sure that none of the enemy had reached the Red Keep.

Now Jasper walked the gardens and godswood of the Red Keep, remembering his childhood days when he had played war here, smashing at his friends with sticks pretending to be all the great heroes, from Aemon the Dragonknight to his personal favourite Arthur Dayne. Now, at least according to the Smallfolk, he was one of those saviours, many of them were praising him openly for his part in the battle, ignoring Tyrion's contributions for keeping the reachmen out of the city long enough for him to arrive. Stannis also received little of the praise that he should have done, without his ships Jasper would have been trapped on the far side of the rush, unable to reach the city and helpless as it burned before his eyes. The sole reason that people praised him, he had realised, was because he had ridden through the gate and looked impressive to them at their time of need.

He looked out over Blackwater Bay from the edge of the gardens, the Royal Fleet, two hundred ships strong, was arrayed neatly in the bay, organised just as Stannis would have them. Looking out towards the Narrow Sea, it was hard to imagine that battles were being fought in all other directions.

"Nephew", Jasper recognised the voice and smiled as he turned to his uncle Tyrion, who's major change was the scar that now ran across his face, apparently from Ser Mandon.

"Tyrion", Jasper replied. "How may I help you?"

"Can we not just talk?" Tyrion asked.

Jasper nodded, "yes I suppose we can."

Tyrion leaned against the wall next to him, looking at him with folded arms and an arched eyebrow. "I was curious", Tyrion said in an off-hand kind of way, "how did you cross the southern Crownlands unstymied by their lords, most of them declared for Renly?"

Jasper smiled, "I know a man, or rather his daughter", Tyrion did not lower his eyebrow so Jasper continued. "Raeven Wendwater, an old friend of mine, convinced her father to side with us and provide us protection through their lands and guide us secretly to the Rush, where Stannis' Fleet was waiting."

Tyrion nodded in understanding, "so I shall have to reward them", he said, "I shall grant them land of those adjacent Lords who declared for Renly."

Jasper smiled, thinking of Raeven's reaction, she had always been a woman of her family, she would be pleased, "I shall inform Raeven", he told Tyrion, "she will be delighted to hear it."

"You fucked her didn't you?"

The question was so sudden it caught Jasper completely flat footed, "what…I…how?"

"Please, you had the look every man has", Tyrion said, waving his hand, and Jasper felt his face redden, he had thought he would be able to hide it. He and Raeven had been lovers before, being one of the Crownland's Lords, the Wendwaters fairly regularly came to the capital, Raeven had bandaged him up after a training session where he suffered many injuries, one thing led to another and that night they were in bed together. Seeing her again on the eve of a major battle, Jasper could not contain himself. No doubt he was making his father proud. "What I am more interested in", Tyrion said as his expression turned from knowingness to something darker, "is why you wasted time fucking her when you could have come straight to the city."

"That is not how it went", Jasper said defensively, "I fucked her, true, but it was whilst we were waiting for Stannis' ships to get in position, I assure you it did not slow down my arrival here."

"Hmmm", Tyrion replied, he did not sound entirely convinced but thankfully he didn't press the issue. "You won't be in the capital long will you?" He then asked, and Jasper shook his head.

"The Dornishmen attacked me, I was defending myself by defeating them, but now I have committed", he declared, "so as soon as I am able, I march on the Reach, I will bring the Tyrells to heel and Renly too."

"Good" Tyrion said, "the Reach still has half its strength in the field."

"They will be beaten Tyrion, have no fear of that", Jasper told him, "with Loras dead Renly will become a changed man, erratic. He will lose his charisma, and when that is gone, the Reach Lords will abandon him one by one."

"How can you be so sure?"

"Lordship of the Reach has been disputed since the Field of Fire", Jasper replied, "having suffered a major defeat other houses may feel that they are more worthy for Highgarden than the Tyrells."

"And if they don't?" Tyrion asked, sounding sceptical.

"Then they still have to fight a two front war between my men and the Ironborn. All the advantages are mine Tyrion, have no fear."

Tyrion at last seemed some semblance of satisfied as he made his way out of the gardens. However, Jasper had no time for peace, for he was shortly joined by his other Uncle in King's Landing, and the one he was closest to, Stannis.

"Stannis", Jasper greeted, smiling and embracing his uncle, who, as usual, was stiff and did not return it.

"Jasper", he replied, "you are riding against the Tyrells before long are you not?"

_Straight to the point as usual_. "Yes", Jasper replied, "and I will be glad of your assistance in the campaign uncle."

"I will not be going", Stannis replied, "the Wall has sent requests for assistance, since I control the ships, I shall be leading reinforcements to it."

"Is that wise at a time of war?" Jasper asked, it made little sense to him to be opening a third front on which they had to fight when there was already uncertainty about them.

"As the King's Council we have duties", Stannis said harshly, "I have taught you that."

Jasper well remembered the talks Stannis had given him on duty and responsibility, yet they both knew he had not fully accepted them, Stannis had known that he would need prompting to come to the city and defend it, which is why he had sent the raven. "Yes", Jasper replied, "we do. I will miss your support Stannis."

"You do not need it", Stannis replied, "I have not educated you to be a fool like Renly, you can defeat him and bring the Reach to heel."

Jasper nodded, thankful that Stannis thought him capable, there was no one he would trust more on matters of warfare. "Still, I would have thought you would want revenge against Lord Tyrell for Storm's End."

"Justice is what I live by Jasper", Stannis answered, his thin lips pressing together tightly, and Jasper heard a familiar grinding of the teeth, "not vengeance."

"Do you have any advice for me going forward", Jasper asked, not truly surprised at Stannis' reply now that he had heard it.

"You can defeat Renly, and you can defeat Lord Mace, I know it, you know it, and more importantly, they do not, use that against them, the man you have to be wary of is Lord Tarly, he has a keen mind for warfare."

Jasper nodded and called out to Stannis as he was making his departure, "how did you know Stannis?" He asked, and his uncle turned, eyebrow raised. "How did you know that I would not want to return, and how did you know that sending a raven with the words "remember your duty" would be enough to make me come?"

Stannis looked him over, "do not think that I raised you for ten years and did not come to know you a little in that time. It would have been all that was needed to send me to the capital." He turned and swiftly departed the gardens in a different direction to Tyrion, once more leaving Jasper alone in the gardens.

It was finally time for him to depart the capital, he was strapped into his armour and his twin swords, High Justice were at his hip and lower back, his shield was on his upper back and his helm was being held by Devan as Jasper said goodbye to his family and friends. Tommen was the first he said goodbye to, holding him close as he wept against him. "Chin up Tommen", Jasper told him, using his index finger to raise Tommen's chin and then brushed away his tears with his thumb. "I shall return, I promise." Tommen nodded, not saying anything, so Jasper moved on to Myrcella, who was holding back her tears.

Jasper smiled, Myrcella had confided in him that she did not want him to have to kiss the tears from her face again, although, if she did cry, he would do it, without hesitation. "Do you really promise to come back; I was so scared last time Jasper?"

Jasper kissed her on the forehead, between the eyes and on the nose, "how about this", he said, "I promise to return if you promise to be strong and not cry again until I return."

Myrcella smiled and nodded, "I promise." She then kissed him on the cheek and Jasper moved to his mother, the last member of his family, for Joffrey was not there, Stannis was with the fleet and Tyrion was ruling the Kingdoms.

"Jasper, punish these traitors for what they have done", his mother said. _Goodbye to you to mother_¸ Jasper thought, but then she continued, "but if you die I will never forgive you."

"Well then, I had best not die", Jasper smiled and hugged his mother. Finally Jasper turned to Sansa, who looked at the same time dignified and yet also sad to see him go. "Lady Sansa, I must thank you again for comforting Tommen and Myrcella", he said softly, placing his hand on her shoulder. "I will also ask you to do the same whilst I am gone from Stom's End."

"I shall do my best My Prince", Sansa replied, bowing her head.

Jasper lifted her face with his finger so she was looking him in the eye. "And write to Arya as well, she is no doubt eager to hear from you?"

"She is?" Sansa asked in disbelief, "you know this?"

Jasper shrugged his shoulders, "there can be no harm in writing to her, can there?" Sansa shook her head and Jasper turned, accepted his helmet from Devan and mounted his horse. Then he turned his horse to the Lion's Gate, outside of which was Jasper's host, arrayed and ordered as he marched to the Reach, and the end of the war.


	32. ASOS Robb I

_**A/N: In response to those of you who are wondering about why Stannis chose to save the city, I have two things to say.**_

_**One: I am not, at this point, going to confirm or deny what Stannis does or does not know about Joffrey, Cersei and Jaime. I know I have given hints, such as the visits to the brothels, but I am confirming nothing, it will be revealed later on what Stannis knows, but not at this moment.**_

_**Two: Whether or not Joffrey is King or Jasper is King, Renly is false. He is also a much bigger threat and, to quote from the book series "It was said that Stannis knew the strength of every house in the Seven Kingdoms" – A Clash of Kings Prologue. Renly may have been beaten but he is not out yet, and Stannis knows this, so **__**if**__** he knows the truth, far better to reveal it once Renly has been defeated and Tywin Lannister is still trapped by Robb Stark. I believe he could justify to himself telling Jasper later, he has faith that Jasper will win his battles against the Reach. Again, I stress, **__**if **__**he knows the truth.**_

_**Hope that clears up some of the confusion, and hope you read on. :^) **_

_As war continues to ravage Westeros, armies and armadas gather to continue the fight._

_Rebellion and revolt rage across Westeros. Having saved the capital from King Renly, Jasper Baratheon prepares to march against the Reach to end the war in the south. In the North, a horde of barbarians drives south for the Wall, and few are willing or able to see that they represent a far greater threat than invasion, particularly not House Baratheon, which faces enemies within and without._

_Thus the war for the Iron Throne continues, and, with the Greyjoys reaving in the west, Robb Stark, still undefeated, fighting for the freedom of the North and the incompetent Joffrey Baratheon on the Iron Throne, the future of House Baratheon, and Westeros as a whole, will still be decided by steel, blood and fury. _

The boat carrying the body of Robb's grandfather was cast off from the riverbank of the Trident, as was custom, it was cast off by seven lords. Robb was one of them, then there was Jason Mallister, Jonos Bracken and Tytos Blackwood, old foes united by the death of their liege and Robb's struggle for their homeland, Karyl Vane and Marq Piper, who had been the first Riverlords to have any success against the Lannister invasion at the beginning of the war, rallying their knights and harrying the supply lines of Tywin and Jaime, and finally Stevron Frey, the leader of a now much diminished house following the Ironborn raid which had destroyed the Twins and killed most of the family, only a few escaping Theon Greyjoy's attack. The Lords stepped back to respect the falling of their liege lord and Edmure stepped up, taking the customary bow of House Tully, knocking a flaming arrow and loosing it at the boat, missing by several feet. He tried again, his second arrow falling close to the boat, but still missing. He took up his third arrow, but once again, the arrow missed the mark, but now the boat was about to turn the bend of the river, so Ser Brynden took up the bow, used a Tully flag to judge the wind and loosed his arrow. He turned and passed the bow back to Edmure, already knowing that it would hit it's mark, and it did, lighting the boat on fire just as it turned the bend in the River.

In the new war room of Riverrun, which had its map out on the table and pieces lain out representing the armies, then Robb and his closest lords, Edmure, Brynden, the GreatJon, Lord Karstark, Lord Bolton and Lord Mallister, began to discuss the change in battle plans following the news of the Siege of King's Landing, where Jasper Baratheon had liberated the city and forced Renly to flee back towards the Reach with less than one in every four of his men. However, the size of this force meant that there were still more than ten thousand men returning to regroup in the Reach, which meant that if they linked up with the forces of Randyll Tarly, he could still muster a larger force than any other King.

Robb had had a successful march until news arrived from Riverrun, although it turned out to be fortunate news in the end. He had marched rapidly across from the Golden Tooth and taken Duskendale, a town in the Crownlands. Then news had arrived of his grandfather's death, forcing him to return for the funeral. It was a good thing because, with forty thousand men stationed outside it, Robb had no chance of taking the capital, but with him gone, those forces had no reason to hold back from going on the offensive in the Reach.

"Tywin Lannister is still behind the Golden Tooth", Brynden said, "He remains there with the Riverlords on watch for his return."

Robb nodded, "the pressure is on us to act now, Tywin is waiting for Jasper to invade the Reach and win, opening a second front against us." Robb stood back contemplating the map, "Can you continue to hold the Golden Tooth?" Robb asked his uncle.

Ser Brynden nodded, "it should be no problem."

Robb nodded. He needed to take a general stock of how many men he had.

"How many Rivermen can be called up in short notice?" Robb asked Edmure.

However, it was Brynden who replied and Robb noted that Edmure looked more than a little slighted at it. "After the defeat at Red Fork, Thirty thousand, we could have had more but now Lord Mallister needs to keep men back to watch for Ironborn raids."

Robb's face, and that of his mother and the Riverlords assembled at the table darkened with cold fury. Only Jason Mallister himself was more humiliated by the raid. Theon had landed as a friend beside Seagard, raced inland, destroyed the Twins and taken it's wealth before retreating, all before they had learned of his treachery. They had raised him as a ward, as one of their own, he had played with Robb and Jon and the others, and he had repaid it with betrayal, it would only have been worse if he had been participating in the raids on the North, but reports seemed to indicate that he was in the south with his uncle, raiding the Reach. "What about if you called up all your available men?" Robb asked the Tullys.

This time Edmure did get his own say, "We do not have many more to call up your grace, only some from the eastern Riverlands."

"Given the small battles they had against the Kingslayer in the early war, probably less than they would normally be able to at that", Brynden added.

Robb nodded again. "How many Northerners?"

"Seventeen thousand", the GreatJon replied. Robb contemplated silently before he made his decision. "Edmure, you shall raise twenty five thousand men and block Tywin Lannister off from the Riverlands."

"What about us our grace?" Lord Bolton asked.

"You shall march ahead Lord Bolton, with your men", Robb explained, "whilst we gather some men here, you shall gather those in the eastern Riverlands and wait around Harrenhal."

"Of course", Lord Bolton replied, "shall I leave now your grace?"

Robb nodded, "as soon as possible." Lord Bolton bowed and departed.

"What of the Ironborn, your grace?" Lord Karstark asked. This was Robb's greatest potential problem, for a king without a kingdom is one no-one takes seriously, at the same time, departing to the North to repel the Ironborn raids, whilst guaranteeing that they do not take the North from him, would also be sending half of his men to the North and away from the south, where he needs to be to win the war. Thankfully, the Ironborn did not seem to be progressing beyond raids for now, and were focussed in the south. This meant that Ser Rodrik, who was calling up the men Robb left behind in his haste to come south, should be able to repel the Ironborn should they come.

"We make our way to Harrenhal", Robb said, "with the Twins destroyed the Green Fork is the only crossing we have, if Jasper Baratheon's host is marching on the Reach when we get there, then we go to King's Landing and force them to accept our freedom."

"If not?"

"Then we decide upon the best course of action from there, if it is to go north then we shall go north." Robb pointed at White Harbour, "I shall also send a raven to Lord Wyman, telling him to reinforce Moat Cailin, if we hold the moat then the North will be ours and we can return, if we lose it the Ironborn will be free to pillage at will."

The Lords nodded and left, leaving Robb alone with his mother. Robb sat down, the strong face he had put on for his lords was gone. "Robb", his mother said, getting up and approaching him as he took a seat. "The boys-"

"Will be safe", Robb interrupted, "I have sent a raven to Rodrik, Winterfell will not fall." She nodded in relief, she could not lose Bran and Rickon too, Arya was still in Storm's End, under Jasper's guardianship, and as such she was the one that Robb was least worried for, particularly following her letter to him, provided she remain there, for Jasper had honour. Sansa was in King's Landing and, as far as they were aware, not harmed, but still within reach of Joffrey Baratheon. Bran and Rickon were in the North, and Robb could only hope that the Ironborn did not attempt to take Winterfell. He shook the thought from his head, there were over six hundred guards at Winterfell, more than enough to hold the castle against the Ironborn. Robb sighed and then continued, "I know you want the war to be over, I do as well mother believe me, but it must be over on our terms, Jasper Baratheon will have to march on Renly Baratheon in the Reach, if not Renly could once more amass the power to take the throne, far more effectively than we could. When he leaves, King's Landing will be undefended once more, we can take the city and force Joffrey to give in to our demands."

"Will that work?" She asked.

"I believe so", Robb said, "I will make it work, Renly Baratheon smashed down two gates of the city, and forced them to use up their stocks of Wildfire, it is open to attack."

Robb hoped he was right, one failed assault upon King's Landing and his war was over.


	33. ASOS Davos I

_A/N: Okay, so some people seem upset about Jasper's actions prior to the Battle of King's Landing, this is good. Jasper is, in no way, a paragon o__f all thin_gs good and pure, he makes mistakes and does bad things just like others.

_ckahaki: At this point Arya doesn't even know Gendry exists. However I have not ruled out introducing him to the story yet. _

_Guest: Yes, the Griffs will come into this story, but not for a while yet._

Davos felt only at home upon the waves of the Narrow Sea, waves he had traversed for years during his life as a smuggler and continued to do so afterwards now he was a landed knight in the Rainwood. But now, he was leaving his family keep behind, with his wife Marya and his seventh and final son Steffon at the keep whilst he and his first three sons, Dale, Allard and Mathos, with their ships travelled to Dragonstone to meet up with the Royal Fleet, his fourth son, Maric was already there, at his post as Oarmaster of the Fury, the flagship of the fleet, his sixth son Stannis was also there, serving as squire and page to Lord Stannis himself. Meanwhile, his fifth son was where he should be, serving as squire to the Prince Jasper as he campaigned in the Reach. It was for him that Davos feared most, for the rest of his sons were safe, either on their ships or at home, in the case of Steffon, but Devan was riding into the heart of the fighting in the war, and Davos would not stop fearing for him until the war was done.

The Royal Fleet was mostly at anchor, two hundred ships, soon to be added to by the three Seaworth ships, _Black Betha_, the one that Davos captained himself and on which his third son Mathos served, was at the front of the three ships, behind him was the _Wraith_, captained by his first son Dale, and the _Lady Marya_, captained by his second son Allard. However, only some of those ships were anchored at Dragonstone itself, the rest being anchored of the coast of Blackwater Bay "Hold steady", Davos called out to Mathos, who repeated the command to the crew, when the ship was close to Dragonstone's main beach. "Anchor", he said and once more his son repeated the command, and Davos closed his eyes until he felt the anchor hit the sea floor and his ship still itself in the water. He pushed himself of the rail at the edge of the ship and looked up at the looming fortress of Dragonstone, reminiscing about the last time he had been there, two years ago, when he was leaving his son Stannis to serve as Lord Stannis' squire. Davos looked over to the _Fury_ anchored nearby, the largest and most powerful ship in Westeros supposedly, and from where Stannis would be leading the fleet. Davos did not know where yet, but with the Ironborn as the only major threat in Westeros at the time, if he were a gambling man he would have put his ship for them going to confront the Iron Fleet once more. He would find out soon as he put to shore aboard the rowing boat with his son Mathos and prepared to meet with Lord Stannis.

On the shore of Dragonstone, Davos looked at the assembled tents, those of the Lords of the Narrow Sea, directly sworn to Stannis himself, Bar Emmon of Sharp Point, Celtigar of Claw Isle, Sunglass of Sweetport Sound and the most prominent, Velaryon of Driftmark. The men of those houses were also on the beach and assembled, clad in leather and chain mail, for the Houses of the Narrow Sea had never been the most wealthy, with swords spears and axes ready for use. Davos waited for his sons to join him on the beach, which they did after anchoring their ships off Dragonstone near to the Black Betha, and then they departed the beach.

The dark corridors of Dragonstone were as ominous as was to be expected from an old stronghold of the Targaryens. However, Davos had rarely been inside it before, Lord Stannis rarely summoned those sworn to him, not having the lead, either he had inspired their loyalty as he had with Davos, or were too in fear of him to act. He had first seen the fortress when Stannis had first assaulted the fortress, taking it from the Targaryens at the end of his brother's rebellion, Davos had helped land the soldiers at the beach for the storming of Dragonstone itself, where the last die-hard loyalists of the Dragon Kings had been holding out. Davos and his sons entered Stannis' most used room for his bannermen, with the room holding the Painted Table, the map of westeros used by Aegon the Conqueror himself.

At the head of the table was Stannis himself, his wife absent, just as Davos had remembered from his every visit to Dragonstone. Around the tables were his various Lords Bannermen and ship captains who would be leading the squadrons as they traversed the Narrow Sea which, in autumn, it was not uncommon for storms to rage up the entire length of the sea, it had been one of the most money making seasons for smugglers, since merchants and traders went via the stepstones into Dorne, anyone who could bring goods directly to the capital, Gulltown, Saltpans or White Harbour was paid handsomely for it. Next to Stannis was someone that Davos had not seen before, a woman, dressed entirely in red, with a choker around her neck set with a deep red jewel, her hair was bright red and, it may have been just the effect of so much red, but even her eyes looked red.

"You finally join us ser Davos", Lord Stannis said, once Davos had taken his place at the table, his sons standing further back respectfully. Davos bowed his head but offered no apology, he arrived when he did and Stannis knew that, proven by the fact that he didn't press the subject further. Stannis turned his attention back to the map in front of him. "We sail for the wall in four squadrons", Stannis declared, trailing a finger up the map from Dragonstone to Eastwatch by the Sea, a castle of the Night's Watch. "The squadrons will be equally sized and set off when they are ready, the first squadron will carry no more than one thousand men from Dragonstone itself, Lord Monford will command this squadron, you will set sail within the next few hours." Lord Monford knew better it seemed, that to ask why Stannis was sailing for the wall rather than to confront the Ironborn in the west, for he asked no questions, allowing Stannis to continue with his instructions. "You will take anchor at Gulltown and the three sisters last of all", Stannis told him, "I have sent ravens ahead to have supplies ready for you to take aboard on your journey to the Wall, I have also sent a raven to White Harbour, declaring our intent to sail to the Wall and defeat these Wildings, so you should face no interference, but be on the look-out and travel in convoy to be safe, keep the transports in the centre and the warships on the outside."

Lord Monford bowed his head, "of course my lord, my family has been sailing the narrow sea for three hundred years, we know how to reach the wall."

Davos could almost hear Stannis gritting his teeth from the other end of the table. "Go Lord Monford", he stated, so the Lord of Driftmark left. "Ser Davos, you will command the second squadron", there was murmuring around the table as Davos would have expected but Stannis seemed to ignore it. "Your transports shall be taking the rest of the men of the Narrow Sea lords, you shall set forth shortly, but remember to take time to gather food or the journey, the North is in rebellion, you can expect no re-supply there."

"Of course my lord", Ser Davos replied, and he expected Stannis to dismiss him, but instead he simply move on to the next squadron.

"The next two squadrons shall take the men of the narrow sea, I shall command the first of them, Lord Celtigar, you shall command the second, these squadrons shall be fifty strong and the first two shall be forty strong, this leaves, at the king's behest", Stannis gritted his teeth, he had never thought highly of Joffrey Baratheon, and the boy king telling him, the Master of Ships what to do with the Royal Fleet did not sit well with him, Stannis probably thought that King Robert had set his first born against Stannis as a final slight. "These last two squadrons must be stocked up on more fodder for horses than the others, for we shall be taking the men of the mainland crownlands to defend the wall, in total more than one thousand horse shall be coming with us and we shall need the horses alive, if the reports on the size of the Wildling horde are true."

"What are the reports on the size of the horde my lord?" Lord Bar Emmon asked Stannis.

"If the Night's Watch is to be believed, then there are one hundred thousand wildlings marching on Castle Black." Davos took a breath, they outnumbered the force that they were taking to the wall ten to one, but it did not escape Davos" notice that Stannis was the only man around the table that seemed un-concerned with the number. However he was not the only person, for the red woman beside him did not react in the slightest. "Numbers matter not", Stannis continued, "we shall smash this horde at the Wall, made of fractious clans and tribes, scatter them to the winds and do our duty in the name of the realm. Now ready your ships", Stannis finished suddenly and his lords turned and began leaving. "Ser Davos, stay a moment", Davos indicated for his sons to leave and he turned back to face Stannis. "You shall be taking the Lady Melisandre to the Wall in your squadron", Stannis told him, indicating the red woman. "Give her quarters and comfort on her journey up there."

Davos looked the red woman over before turning back to his lord. "May I ask why, my Lord?"

It was the red woman herself who answered, without Stannis' leave, she must be someone of some importance to Stannis to do so, especially given that he did not berate her. "A new threat approaches the world", she said, in a strange accent that Davos could hear through well enough, but even with his years of smuggling experience, he could not place where it came from, certainly not Westeros or any of the Free Cities with a coast line. "An old enemy, demons of Snow and Ice and it is at the Wall where the true war lies, this battle for the Iron Throne means nothing and these four Kings would do well to turn their attention to the Wall, for this barbarian attack is only the precursor for what is to come. Or else they will be corpse kings serving those who raise the dead."

Davos did not quite know how to react to that, so said nothing, however Stannis did speak and what he said made Davos think hard.

"I you seek to understand the danger that Lady Melisandre says is coming, ask yourself what would make one hundred thousand hardened and experienced warriors flee for the protection of the wall."


	34. ASOS Victarion I

Victarion loved his ships and he loved the sea, but perhaps nothing filled him with as much anticipation as when his ships were flying over the waves towards a beach, ready to unleash a band of bloodthirsty Ironborn to reave their way to greatness and glory. If there was anything that filled him with more anticipation and pride it was when the enemy ships were burning behind him. It seemed that Theon had not completely forgotten the waves at Winterfell, for his longships had ambushed the Redwyne patrol and captured two ships, burning the other five, these greenlanders and their seven headed god, they had to do everything in that number, they were predictable like that. At least, that was what Theon had said on the Shield Islands when he assured him that they could get past a Redwyne patrol should they try and stop his longships.

It was for that reason that Victarion was at the front of the _Iron Victory_, as is soared towards the beach of the Arbor, where Theon and Dagmer's reavers were already engaging a Redwyne force sent against them by the Lords of the Island. Victarion tried to imagine what his ancestor Dagon had felt as he reaved, the Dragons were defeated and he had tied the tails of the Lions and Wolves in knots before turning the tentacles of the Kraken upon the Reach, he had taken half of the wealth of the Arbor back to the Iron Islands with him, now Victarion would do more, he would seize the island for King Balon, with the Arbor taken, the only islands in the Sunset sea not to know the Ironborn would be Bear Isle in the North, which had very little on it anyway, and Fair Isle, where Victarion had been beaten before. But he drove the thought of defeat from his mind and his ship grounded upon the beach, and as he leapt overboard he knew, that this day would be a day of victory. The only thing to disappoint Victarion was that there was not much for him to do, for the battle was almost won as Theon and Dagmer's men were slaughtering the Arbor's levies and the few knights that were still there. He charged at three men, sinking his axe into the shoulder and deep into the chest of the first one. When another charged at him, he punched him in the face with a gauntleted fist, relishing the feel of cartilage breaking under it, he pulled his axe out, spun, and ended the suffering of the man by carving through his neck, hearing the spine snap as his axe cleaved it in two. The final man ran, joined shortly by the remaining survivors from the beach battle.

Victarion looked at the blood on his axe and smiled at the sight, however when he saw the two dead bodies his face darkened, despite being the organiser of the full scale Ironborn invasion of the Arbor, he had only what these bodies had to show for it, they were what he had bought with Iron, and they were peasants called up to fight, not knights or lords with true treasures on them. Victarion could only imagine the moods of the Ironborn who had come to shore after him, those who had witnessed the battle but had not taken part. They would no doubt be cursing the weaknesses of these Arbor men who had fled before they could kill them. Turning aside the thoughts, Victarion looked up the beach and further into the Arbor, where Theon and Dagmer would storm and turn aside all opposition as they turned the Arbor into one of the Iron Islands. Victarion approached the two of them as they rested after the battle on a nearby rock, Theon examining recovered arrows and his bloodied sword, and Dagmer was also looking over his weapons.

"So Theon", Victarion asked, the two of them looking up to him when his shadow fell over them. "Since I have given you command of the reavers attacking the Arbor, what is your plan?" Victarion peered at his nephew, this was where Theon determined if he was a leader, not because of Victarion's decree, but because he knew what he was to do and how he would do it.

Theon nodded and pointed over to the mainland. "I will take most of the reavers inland, we will ravage the Arbor and defeat what defences remain. Dagmer will take the longships and raid the smaller islands nearby, I do not want the Redwyne fleet attacking our longships whilst we are reaving, stranding us here."

Victarion nodded, normally that would be a sound plan, however, there was a difference between the Arbor and the rest of the Reach. "Do not forget", Victarion warned, "House Redwyne's sons are held hostage in King's Landing, they sent no men with Renly their host remains here."

Theon only smiled. "They will fall."

"How exactly will you accomplish this?" Victarion asked Theon, his heart sinking, this was still raiding to Theon, he did not seem to understand that it would be a bloody business, taking the Arbor, the knights there would fight fiercely to protect their homeland.

"I will use the chivalry of the Reach against them", Theon declared boystously, in a manner which might have impressed the Northmen, but would only be seen as a challenge by his Ironborn, who still did not yet believe in him. "I will raid villages, when they ride out to retaliate, I will ambush them, I will bleed them white so that they are too terrified to leave their holdfasts and then, when they are weak and scared, the Arbor will be mine for the taking."

Victarion was not as convinced as Theon was, he did not believe that the Arbor would be so easily won, but if Theon could in it might just tip the scales of his favour in Balon's eyes higher than that of his sister Yara, for that reason, Victarion said no more, and instead allowed Balon's son and rightful heir to progress as he wished for now, see whether he was truly ready to ascend the Seastone chair.

"Lord Captain", Victarion turned, leaving Theon to his imagined victory as he turned to see a messenger approach him, a man he recognised, but not from his fleet, he had been at Yara's shoulder in Oldtown. "I bear news from Lady Yara", the man said, bowing, "she has retreated from Oldtown, the host of Randyll Tarly has gotten too close and was too strong for her, but she took all there was o value from the city."

Victarion nodded in approval, much as he may disapprove of a woman inheriting the Seastone chair, he could not deny that she commanded well, for knowing when to retreat was of import, especially to the Ironborn, who would be forever outnumbered by their enemies on land. However, it seemed that Theon did not share this approval. "Ha", he laughed, "my sister runs away when she should fight."

"There is no shame in running from an impossible fight", Victarion snapped back, Theon may not have entirely lost his Ironborn ways, but he was also certainly too impulsive and naive to command a large campaign at the moment, which was why Victarion had assigned Dagmer to him, so that Theon would not take the ships and reave on his own. "That is something you had best learn if you ever wish to be the Iron King." Leaving the mollified Theon, Victarion turned back to the messenger, who had not moved from his position. "Was there something else my niece wished me to know?"

The messenger nodded, "word from the capital would seem to be that Stannis Baratheon and the Royal Fleet have sailed." Victarion took in a sharp breath as his vision was clouded with images of his beloved fleet being smashed into pieces in the straits between Fair Isle and the mainland. The black background and golden kraken of Greyjoy falling as, through it all, he saw the golden background and the black crowned stag of Baratheon advance, tall, proud and strong atop the Royal Flagship. Victarion could have imagined the King's brother at the prow, looking on as his trap was successful. He shuddered and looked back to the messenger. "Apparently, squadrons of the Royal Fleet have set in at Gulltown before heading towards the Wall."

That confused Victarion on two counts, one, there was no naval threat at the Wall so he had no idea why the Royal Fleet was travelling the Narrow Sea to get there, and two, with the Reach in rebellion, he did not know how Yara would have discovered it. "How did Yara discover this?" He asked the messenger.

"The Citadel", the man said, "they get reports from maesters across the Seven Kingdoms, Lady Yara confiscated the reports before she left Oldtown." Victarion nodded in approval of his niece again, she certainly had brains, but she was a woman, and no woman would sit in the Seastone chair, his brother Aeron Damphair would never accept it.

"What of Yara?" He asked the messenger, "where is she?"

"She is returning to the Shield Islands Lord Captain", the messenger said to him, "reaving villages along the coast as she goes." Victarion absently wondered whether or not there was anything of value left along the coast of the Reach, a year of almost constant reaving would drain a land faster than building Harrenhal did to the Iron Islands and the Riverlands.

"Does she know what she will do when she gets there?"

The messenger nodded, "she said that unless you return with orders for her she intends to return home with the loot gathered from the campaign so far."

Victarion nodded, "it has to be done, tell her she should go but that I will need her back here when she is done."

"I shall Lord Captain", the man rushed off down the beach to where his ship was no doubt waiting for him, a ship loyal to his niece.

Victarion looked around him, at the reavers who were still wading ashore those belonging to Theon's command and those under his, who would be returning to their home of the sea before long. Indeed, half of Victarion's Iron Fleet remained at sea, for, although he estimated that at most only around half of the ships that the Reach could call upon remained, if they were to catch the Iron Fleet and the longships at the beach, they would win a stunning victory, and Victarion would never be caught with his britches around his ankles, pissing into the air in celebration of victory by an enemy fleet, as he had in the straits between Fair Isle and the mainland. His gaze was caught by a newly arrived Longship, putting into shore not far away, when only a single reaver leapt over the edge and into the surf, Victarion suspected that it was another messenger had come for him. When the man looked around, caught sight of Victarion and rushed over to him, Victarion knew that his suspicions were correct.

"Lord Captain", the man said, dropping to one knee in the sand. "I have a message from Iron King Balon Greyjoy."

Victarion narrowed his eyes. "Where have you sailed from?"

"The Shield Islands, Lord Captain."

"How did you get here from the Shield Islands so quickly?"

"The message arrived mere hours after you left, Lord Lenwood dispatched me as soon as it arrived."

Victarion nodded, glad that his subordinate had not become indulgent in his new Lordship. "What is my brother's message?" He asked the man.

"Lord Balon says that he will be arriving on the Shield Islands in two moon's time, he wishes to oversee your reaving efforts in person for a while."

Victarion nodded again, waving his hand to dismiss the messenger, who scurried back to his ship._ Two moons brother_, Victarion thought to himself, _two moons to destroy the Redwyne Fleet_, he would not dare present himself before his brother with his task unfulfilled, he would shatter the remains of the Redwyne Fleet before returning to the Shield Islands to prepare for his brother's arrival. "Two moons then", Victarion turned at the sound of his nephew's voice, "two moons to take the Arbor for my father."

"Do not rush this matter Theon", Victarion warned.

"It will not be a rush", Theon replied, a viscious smile on his face. "It will be a feast, and by the time my father arrives, the Arbor will be Ironborn once again."


	35. ASOS Arya I

Things hadn't been the same in Storm's End since Jasper had left for the second time, everyone was far more serious, not one of them had thought that the war would ever reach the ancestral home of House Baratheon, but it had, and it was only thanks to Arya that there had been a victory, well, Arya and Edric, but it was Arya who was being treated with far more respect and having her opinion asked, since Edric had left to squire for Jasper's Sworn Shield Beric. The mood in general was also much changed from before the attempted coup of Ser Cortnay Penrose, everyone was far more serious and hard working, eager to prove that they were not traitors but loyal to their lord. Unfortunately for Arya, that meant that they were constantly fawning over her, giving her little peace and quiet when she wanted it, or solitude when she sought it, instead she had to entertain knights and lords and squires and stableboys, just as her mother had told her a noble lady should do, something that she had always refused, yet here it was, thrust upon her. The only person who seemed to understand who was left in the castle was Nymeria, who now almost never left Arya's side.

The only place in the castle where the two of them seemed to be able to get some peace and quiet, apart from her chambers, was the roof of the Drum Tower, where few went. One of those few was Ser Gilbert Farring, the new Castellan of Storm's End after Ser Cortnay. He at least seemed to respect her enough not to constantly be asking her questions or trying to win her favour, for which she was thankful, for Arya only ascended the roof so as to think on one matter recently. Jasper.

She had been struggling ever since he left to understand what she felt about him. She had undeniably felt a great sense of relief when he had ridden through the gate, although she was unsure where it had come from at the time, for she had not thought that she had worried about him too much, after all, she would have heard if something was wrong. However, she had only recently, in the last few days even, begun to understand that she had been anxious every time a letter arrived from the Dornish Marches, fearful that Jasper had been killed. But it made sense, she had reasoned to herself, after all, Jasper being alive was the only think keeping her alive as well, or at least free, if he died there was no doubt that she would at the very least be taken back to King's Landing, to be a prisoner there until Robb won his war. Robb had also been absent from Arya's mind, ever since she had discovered the plot against Jasper, Arya could not remember feeling worried for Robb, but he was her brother, there was no reason to worry, was there?

Arya shook herself from her thoughts and looked out over the Stormlands. She could not see King's Landing, but she knew it was somewhere to the north, and given that it was morning and the sun was on her right, that must be straight ahead, she assumed that she was looking at it. They had hear all about how Jasper had arrived just in time to save the city, and Arya had felt angry that she was not part of the battle. But then other rumours began to bear fruit, ones that said that Jasper had fucked an old lover of his before the battle. That rumour had sent a funny feeling into her stomach, as did one that said that she was now carrying his bastard, she couldn't put her finger on it. She wondered if her mother had ever known that her father was bringing Jon with him when he came home, or if she only knew when he rode through the gate clutching him in his arms. She also considered how she would feel, if Jasper returned with one of his own. Would she be like her mother, or would she care for it? She did not know, she hoped that she never would have to.

Thinking back to Jasper, Arya knew that he should be in the Reach by now, his host having crossed the Blackwater Rush and following King Renly, but they had not heard of him since King's Landing.

"Lady Arya", Arya spun at the voice, angry that she had been disturbed, but her expression changed rapidly when she saw that it was Heward, one of her guards. "The men were wondering if you wished to train with them." Arya smiled, glad for a distraction. The one benefit of the attention she was now getting was that the castle guard now let her train with them, they had been eager to see her in a fight after it was told that she had saved Jasper's life and fought the traitors alongside the guards. She nodded and followed Heward down, darting into her chambers to change into breeches and retrieve her swords.

She was able to defeat several of the guards, but the more experienced ones were able to beat her, so much so that she had several bruises up her arms and one of them gave her a bad knock on the head, so much so that she had to sit out for several rounds. It was then that maester Varwyn came down the steps to her. "Lady Arya", he said as he approached, "there has been a raven for you, from Lord Jasper." Arya held out her hand and yanked the letter from the maester's hand as soon as it was within reach. Using Needle, she slit the seal, which was white, not Jasper's yellow, so he was using the ink of some other castle, but it still bore the sign of his ring, so it was from him. She set Needle aside and unfurled the letter.

_Arya_

_I write to you now from Bitterbridge, I had force marched to the castle from the border of the Reach, hoping to catch Renly before he crossed, unfortunately he had already done so and is still retreating south, towards Highgarden and Randyll Tarly's host. The good news is that all houses north of the Blueburn and east of the Mander have bent the knee to me, but most of the others seem ready to fight to the end._

_I am sorry for not coming back to Storm's End after the Battle of King's Landing, I had meant to, except that I failed and Renly escaped, but worse he has not surrendered, he still thinks he has won. So I have committed now, as vile as my brother may be he is the king now, and as Lord Paramount of the Stormlands I have to serve him, it brings bile to my throat, but that is the case. _

_I realise that answering these questions that I am about to put to you may be difficult, since I will be moving on from Bitterbridge shortly to defeat Renly once and for all, but I must ask them all the same, if only to satisfy my own desire for your safety, I would not forgive myself if you were harmed. So, how have things been for you with the new appointments in the household? Ser Gilbert was my very first appointment to the Storm's End household, several years ago when Renly let me appoint the new captain of the guards, I trust him, and I hope that you do as well, for he is a good man, an honest man and a loyal man. I hope you can get to know him, like him and trust him as I do, for when we are married, if we do get married, remember I have no wish to force the issue on you, he will be your man as well as mine. _

Marriage, Arya had not contemplated the prospect of actually marrying Jasper in some time, she didn't want to. If she had a choice she would remain unmarried and free as long as she could, but how long could she last in this world alone. As proven when she tried to get Ser Loren and Ser, or Lord Ronnet now, to join her in assisting Jasper, women could clearly not do much in the world, they needed men. _No_, Arya thought stubbornly, _I need no man, I am as good as any of them_. But was that true? She was not as good a fighter as most trained men, she was not as strong nor as well respected. Indeed the queen had power, but it came from her husband, as her power as Jasper's wife would come from him. If she had to marry, she would rather marry someone like Jasper, who at least let her have some freedom, but was it really freedom if Jasper had to give it to her.

Not wanting to think too long and hard about it, she turned her eyes back to the letter.

_I hope that they are all treating you well whilst me and Edric are gone, he sends his regards by the way, he is currently cleaning Ser Beric's armour, Beric is leading my scouts for now, and he is working Edric to the bone, but there is something, I suspect that it is the fact that both of them are bastards, that draws them together, they work seamlessly and one day Edric will be a fine knight. Indeed, in two years he could be knighted, should Ser Beric grant it to him. _

_Have you written to your sister? If not then you should, she is anxious to hear from you, I do not know if she has or is allowed to write in King's Landing, my mother can be overbearing in that respect, it would not surprised me if she was forbidding contact between, what she sees as her hostages. I have no such restrictions, write to her if you wish to, it would be good from her to hear from you, and you from her, for neither of you have had contact with your families, hearing from each other should help heal the pain of that separation. I wish I could relate to how that felt, but I know nothing of the sort of feelings, when I was away from my family I was mostly glad, I missed Tommen and Myrcella, as I miss them now, but Joffrey was a prick, my father as drunk and my mother overbearing. It was a relief when I could escape them, go to Storm's End, Winterfell or even where I am now, the Reach._

_I wish you could see this place Arya, the view from the castle is magnificent, the North holds a harsh beauty, the Stormlands have a savage beauty to them, the Westerlands have a majestic beauty, but in terms of shear sunlit beauty, the Reach outclasses them all. I hope that I can bring you here one day, when the war is over maybe, so you can see the land when it is unblemished by war camps and the dust kicked up by marching hosts, I want to see that view again myself, although whether I will be welcome in the Reach again depends on many things, who is the Lord of the Reach, if we have a blood relationship, how harsh my brother is to them in defeat, or indeed should we lose the war. _

_That is my final message to you Arya, should I fall in battle, and only if the report is conclusive that I am dead, then I want you to show the other message enclosed in this to the shipmaster, that will allow you to take Winter's Fury North, to White Harbour, where you can go home, amongst other things. _

Arya looked at the second piece of paper that had come in the message.

_Last Will and Testament of Jasper of the House Baratheon. Lord of Storm's End, Lord Paramount of the Stormlands._

_It is hereby stated, that, should I fall in the campaign against Renly Baratheon, that the following items be bequeathed unto my betrothed, Arya, of the House Stark: My shortsword, Low Justice, shall be given to her to do with as she pleases. My marble Cyvasse set, a game that I hope she learns in full, and finally all my horses, including all of my warhorses. It is also my Will, that should I fall before the end of the war, that Arya be transported by my ship to White Harbour, there to be re-united with her family in Winterfell. _

_All of my other items shall pass to my uncle, Stannis of the House Baratheon, Lord of Dragonstone and Master of Ships at the time of writing, I also name my uncle Stannis, my heir should I fall, to assume the Lordship of Storm's End after me and all his line after them. The Valyrian Steel Longsword, High Justice, shall be passed down through this line to be the ancestral sword of House Baratheon of Storm's End. _

_Jasper Baratheon, Lord of Storm's End, Lord Paramount of the Stormlands._

Arya was stunned, Jasper would not die, he couldn't but, he had planned for it, and he was leaving her with his shortsword and horses, he knew she loved riding, but she never would have thought that he would leave her with so much.

However the main image in her mind was one of Jasper's body, clad in his black armour, fallen, an arrow in his chest, his vacant eyes staring at her. She nearly screamed at the sight of it, his black hair matted with blood, his shield dented and ruined, his sword the only bright thing in the image and his greeves were coated in slick brown mud and his skin was a white as snow.

She shuddered and turned back to the main letter that was sent by the raven.

_Arya, be careful, do not be too reckless, whilst that is like you we cannot have another incident like at Castle Darry, this time I am not there to dive in and save you, there are people who want you dead, there are people who want to hurt me by killing you, trust your judgement and be wary, I shall see you again after I have defeated Renly._

_Your Friend_

_Jasper._

Arya turned to the maester, who was simply watching her. "How long would it have taken this raven to get here from Bitterbridge?"

The maester considered, "several days, he is no doubt gone by now."

Arya hissed in frustration, she wanted to send a raven back to Jasper, telling him that he was not to die. "You could always write the letter anyway", the maester continued, "give it to him on his return."

"What would be the point in that?" Arya asked.

"It would show Lord Jasper what you were feeling when he returns."

Arya thought, and then shook her head. "If I remember I will tell him", she told the maester, "if not then it is clearly not important enough."


	36. ASOS Jasper I

Following the lessons Stannis had given him of war, Jasper had divided his forty thousand strong host into two for the invasion of the Reach. Normally he would have had fifty thousand men to invade the Reach with, but the Marcher Lords remained in their castles with their men, under the overall command of Bryce Caron, for the Dornish had not yet bent the knee, despite the casualties they had suffered and were still poised to strike at them under the command of Oberyn Martell, who wanted vengeance for the death of his daughter Obara at the blade of Beric. The first host, under the command of Jasper himself, and consisting of twenty thousand men, the same number as the other host, was currently camped just outside Longtable, the seat of House Merryweather, having forced the surrender of Lord Orton Merryweather. The other host, under the command of Lord Ralph Buckler, would be approaching their camp spot ten miles further down the Mander at this point. Jasper was marching in a leapfrog formation, knowing that he could not ask his men to march more than twenty miles per day, they overtook one another daily as they descended on Cider Hall first, and then Highgarden, although Jasper hoped to have forced Renly's surrender before then, attempting an assault on Highgarden was not appealing, even with his numbers, for the castle was strong and Renly and Randyll Tarly were still in the field.

Jasper and his commanders were currently standing around the map table, as Loren, who had squire for Ser Addam Marbrand once, a fine commander of scouts, which was why Jasper had assigned him to lead the outriders of his own host, began to explain the situation, and it was not looking good for Jasper's host.

"My Lord", he said, moving over to the map. "We have been outmanouevered, Renly Baratheon is descending upon us from the west and Randyll Tarly is marching up from the south, he has already crossed the Mander at Highgarden."

Jasper looked on, confused. "But Randyll Tarly was fighting the Ironborn was he not?"

"Yes My Lord", Loren replied, "but he has heeded Renly's call, and Renly himself has called up the rearguard and rallied scattered survivors and loyalists, his host now numbers close to twenty five thousand men."

Curse the Reach, why did they have to have so many men ready to call up. "How close is Randyll Tarly?"

"He is not three days march south of here", Loren informed him, moving the Rose that was being used to represent Lord Tarly, previously beside Oldtown, towards the confluence of the Cockleswhent and the Mander, near Cider Hall, at the same time, he moved Renly's out so that it was between Goldengrove and Longtable. "Lord Ralph Buckler requests that he pull his forces across to the other bank of the Mander, and to reinforce it against Lord Tarly."

"He has permission", Jasper said at once, "send a messenger to him immediately", he told Loren, who tapped one of his outriders to go and deliver the message, "I want my men alive!" Jasper called after the man. Jasper bit his lip, he had thought things were going so well. Stannis would know what to do, he always did. "And Renly, how far out is he?"

"Not two days", Loren replied.

Jasper sat down closed his eyes and thought, he set up a Cyvasse board in his mind, arranging the pieces accordingly, Lord Tarly's host represented the Dragon, the Elephant, the Crossbowmen, the Trebuchet, the Heavy Horse and the Catapult. Renly's was the Rabble, the Spearmen, the Light Horse and the King. The King! Jasper opened his eyes with sharp focus, he knew what he needed to do.

"How much horse do we have here?" Jasper asked his commanders sharply.

"Three thousand in each camp", Ser Balon replied.

Jasper narrowed his eyes looking at the map. "And you say that Renly's host is twenty five thousand strong", he directed the question at Loren.

"Slightly less than that number", Loren confirmed, "but many of them recruits."

Jasper stood up, he knew for certain what he had to do now. _Once you have made a decision, questioning it aids your foe_, Stannis had taught him that, he would now use that and one other piece of advice to end Renly's rebellion once and for all. _Constantly be reacting to his moves, and your enemy can dictate your strategy to you, forge your own path and make him react, and you decide how the war progresses_.

"Assemble the horse and outriders all of them", Jasper announced, "we shall ride against Renly."

His lords and commanders looked stunned. "With only three thousand men?!"

Jasper nodded, "the foot shall cross the bridge back the way we came and set up camp beside Longtable, occupy the castle too, I want no treachery from Lord Orton, hold the crossing against any attempt to force it."

"Who shall command the foot?" Beric asked, the one person in the tent who seemed at ease with Jasper's intentions.

"Ser Lomas Estermont", Jasper said, and the experienced knight to whom Jasper was related through his grandmother stood up. "You have command of the foot until I return, and I shall return victorious." Ser Lomas nodded, he looked sincere, although Jasper was not sure if it was trust or feigned by the man.

"Are you sure that leading a mere three thousand men against Renly's vastly superior force is wise', Lord Cafferon asked.

"Wisdom and duty often contradict each other", Jasper said, "in this case we must bow to the latter, it is our duty to defeat Renly, and so I shall do so." He moved away from the table and towards the exit of the tent. "I have made my decision my lords", he told them just before leaving, "follow the orders."

As soon as possible after that, Jasper was riding at the head of three thousand men, the outriders having already left, their duty to make sure that Renly did not know that they were coming. They rode in almost complete silence, the mounted knights clearly not happy about Jasper's plan to attack Renly, but it had to be done. Aegon the conqueror had defeated the Reach by fire, Jasper Baratheon would now defeat it by storm.

"Jasper", Jasper turned to Beric, who was riding beside him. "Have you heard the rumours?"

Jasper shook his head, "what rumours?"

"About what you did before attacking Renly outside King's Landing."

Jasper sighed, he knew what the rumours would be, what else could they be. He had fucked Raeven, so of course he instantly had a bastard and was dishonouring his future wife. But on the upside, he was his father's son. It was that last part that made Jasper retch more than any other. "How bad are they?" He asked.

"Not as bad as you might think", Beric replied consolingly. "You only have the one bastard."

Jasper scoffed, "if there is one thing I can guarantee, it is that I do not have a bastard."

Beric looked alarmed. "How do you know that?"

Jasper looked away in shame. In reality he had no right to do what he did, he only hoped Raeven would forgive him, or maybe it was his revenge for playing on his fears just before his first major battle. "I gave her moon tea", he told his sworn shield in a low voice. "She is unaware, but I did."

"How is she unaware?"

"I gave her the drink, the moon tea was in it, that is all."

Beric whistled. "That is some way to treat the woman you love."

"Whoever said anything about love", Jasper snapped back. "Raeven is a lovely person, a beautiful woman, but I do not love her."

"You loved her when you were thirteen", Beric reminded Jasper, who felt his ears burn slightly.

"I loved anything with tits when I was thirteen", he reminded Beric, "I am not a boy any longer."

"When was the last time you had a woman before Raeven?" Beric asked.

Jasper looked away before muttering, "just before we went to Winterfell."

Based on the look on his face, Jasper could tell Beric was confused. "We were in Highgarden just before Winterfell."

"Have you seen how those Tyrells dress?" Jasper said in reply, "I was a boy, what did you want of me, celibacy? The High Septon himself would not be able to hold himself back in Highgarden at Summer." Beric nodded, and Jasper added, "and I saw the way you looked at some of them."

Beric did not blush, he was never embarrassed. "True", he said, "very true." There was a little bit of silence before he spoke again, "so, Raeven Wendwater, which one was it", he screwed up his face. "Alla Tyrell?" Jasper nodded, remembering her heart shaped face, soft brown curls and sharp golden eyes. "Is there anyone else?"

"The rest of the time I was with Stannis or there was no one there", Jasper pointed out, he did not need to say anything else. Then he realised what the implied. "I did not go looking for them", he added hurriedly, "I hated myself when I did it, but-" Beric held up his hand.

"You do not need to explain yourself to me Jasper, I know you are not your father when it comes to women."

Jasper nodded, "good."

"So if you didn't love Raeven anymore?" Beric asked, not letting the subject of Jaspers lovers go, "why did you fuck her?"

Jasper sighed. "I was about to fight my first major battle Beric", he said, "in the Marches I outnumbered the Dornish, but I was about to attack sixty thousand men with forty thousand. I was scared, she was there, it just sort of happened." Jasper looked down at the neck of his horse, running his fingers through the mane. "Do not think I don't regret it Beric, mostly for doing it, but also, I don't doubt that Arya will hear these rumours."

"You truly care for her", Beric said, "don't you."

"She's", Jasper began, but then he stopped. He didn't know what to feel about Arya. He moved his horse forward slightly and Beric knew not to pursue the topic.

They set up in a small wood that evening, just in case a scout happened to come across them on patrol. It was a good thing they did, for they were able to watch as Renly's host arrived, mostly afoot with only a few horsed men, they set up camp not far from the wood, in a wide open space that offered plenty of vantage points to look out and see an attack coming. Jasper was beginning to reconsider his plan, for Renly had posted lookouts, he could see them, he did not think his men could get there before he was ready, but if he turned back now, his men would lose heart and that could jeopardise the entire campaign. He had to score some kind of victory here, or he was lost.

He turned to his men, about to tell them to ready their horses, for the sun was coming down and Jasper wanted to attack as Renly's men were about to sleep, however, when he turned to his men to tell them to get ready, he saw only looks of despair on their faces. "What is the problem?" He asked his knights, many of whom looked around awkwardly, only the Stormguard standing by their lord.

"My Lord", one of them began, cowering slightly as Jasper turned his gaze upon him. "We do not think we can win such a battle, there are too many."

"Too many", Jasper repeated, turning to appraise Renly's camp. He walked amongst his knights, observing the desperation in their eyes, the hopelessness, and it was worse than he had thought it would be. He had thought there would be hesitation, but not outright fear. He knew he had to do something about this, so he would give his battle speech now.

"So Renly has twenty thousand men, what would you have me do ser, surrender? What if we do, what then, would you be content to live, knowing that you had surrendered to peasants who have had weapons shoved in their hands by a traitor. Or what if we retreated, rejoined the foot without victory, our tails between our legs? There we will prolong our lives, and for what I ask, to await Renly and Randyll Tarly to come to us at their leisure? Of course there is risk, there will always be risk, but I tell you this now, leave, and all you shall do is miss out on the glory of victory in a failed attempt to live longer. Why pray for longevity, we all die one day, we were born to die, the very fact that we will die is the one thing that joins us and the traitors about to eat their final meal over there! So you can remain here, or leave and die a lowly traitor, or you can come with me and win a victory that will make you live forever in song and glory. Whoever is with me, mount your horse and ride beside me into battle, whoever is not, remain where you are and watch me win it!"

That gave his men enough heart, for they pumped their fists into the air and cheered, Jasper looked over at the camp and beckoned them to calm down, hoping that Renly's lookouts didn't hear him. Thankfully they did not, and so Jasper mounted his horse and led his men towards their battle. They began by circling around the host so that they were as the western side of it, the opposite side to where they were supposed to be. It seemed that Jasper's faith in victory had alerted the gods, because, just in time to mask their travelling to the west, a thunderstorm began, the rain hammering the ground, the men and the horses. They kept their horses walking slowly as they rode around the camp, out of sight of the lookouts thanks to the rainstorm. When they were facing the east side of the camp, Jasper drew his sword, High Justice and turned to his men. "Make no noise until we have breached the camp", he told them, our targets are my uncle Renly and Lord Tyrell, capture Renly if possible, but it is essential that Lord Tyrell be captured or his son can continue the rebellion." Then he spurred his horse into action, charging the camp.

The lookouts didn't even notice; Jasper slashed across the face of the first he came across before he could yell a warning, shattering the skull and passing through the brain with High Justice. He charged into the camp and only when he was inside yelled, at the top of his voice, "BARATHEON!" The call was taken up by his knights who spread out, trampling tents and hacking off limbs and heads as they crushed the terrified and exhausted men of Renly's host. Jasper led the Stormguard and around a hundred other knights charging straight through the middle of the camp, every now and then reaching down to the left or right to kill a man who was not fast enough in getting out of the way. However most just ran, they seemed to think that howling shrieking demons had appeared amongst them and were scattering in all directions Jasper did not look, but knew that his knights were tearing through the camp just as he was with his wedge of knights.

Before long they were at the pavilion under which Renly and his lords were eating, unarmoured and most without their swords. Jasper's knights surrounded the tent and pointed their own bloodstained swords at them, causing those who bore their swords to drop them. Jasper dismounted and approached the head of the table, where Renly was sitting, his crown, shaped like many antlers, rested upon his head. "Hello uncle", Jasper said as he raised his visor, High Justice pointing at Renly's heart. "Will you surrender your crown, or must I take it off you?"


	37. ASOS Tyrion I

The bells rung out across King's Landing when news arrived of Jasper's victory in the Reach. There were numerous reports about how Jasper had won such a staggering victory: One said that Jasper had called upon a host of undead horsemen to trample Renly's camp into dust and steal away the souls of Renly's army; another had said that the gods themselves had set Renly's camp ablaze and Jasper rode through the breach alone, slaughtering the traitors to the crown with High Justice; a third stated that it was a coup in Renly's camp and that Jasper hadn't been involved at all, this was probably the weakest of them all, but Tyrion was certain he would only receive the truth when Jasper was back in the capital with Renly in chains. But the number of rumours was staggering, each rumour around seemed to fuck another rumour and breed a dozen more. But Tyrion cared not, the rebellion in the south was dealt with, Renly was on his way to the capital with most of the leadership of the Reach, according to Jasper's letter he had left lords who had already bent the knee to lead the Reach host against the Northmen in the Riverlands, but all the rest, Lord Tarly, Lord Rowan, Lord Florent, Lord Fossoway, half a hundred more, were being escorted to the capital with Jasper to bend the knee to Joffrey.

Tyrion had tried to organise a day of celebration, the crown had limited resources at their disposal, but with the food that had begun arriving from the early kneelers of the reacher lords and crownlands lords, Tyrion had distributed it for free across the entire city, he had paid performers to go out and put on shows and performances, compose songs and dances and in general just raise the mood of the city, which had started going down since the siege had been lifted by Jasper. When he had first heard of the victory, Tyrion had wondered what Joffrey's reaction would be, for the people already sung Jasper's praises, he hoped the idiot would not be too rash in his actions, but knowing Joffrey he would be unpredictable. Although perhaps it would be a good thing, for if Joffrey ordered that Jasper be killed, then the smallfolk of King's Landing would rise up and tear him down, then, whether it was Jasper or Tommen left to rule, there would be a better king than Joffrey.

Pushing such thoughts aside, Tyrion turned his attention back to more pressing matters, namely the Northern host that was rampaging across the Northern Crownlands. Led by the young wolf himself, this host, which comprised five thousand horses, had smashed the ten thousand crownlanders sent against them, the Young Wolf's direwolf hunting down the outriders single handedly, before Robb Stark himself led an ambush against them as they approached Duskendale. The sole reason that the news of the battle had not sent terror throughout King's Landing was that news of Jasper's victory in the west came the next day, and the populace knew that their hero was returning to save them from the unwashed Northerners. Still, they had to be stopped, and with the majority of the Crownlander hosts away under the command of Stannis at the Wall, curse the rigid man or demanding that he lead the men there, and the rest beneath the Blackwater Rush, led by the Wendwaters who, following their assistance to Jasper for the Siege of King's Landing, were now the dominant power in the south, able to raise three thousand five hundred men, unwilling to confront the unbeaten Stark, Tyrion knew that he had to act himself.

This was why, four days after Jasper's victory, Tyrion was now sitting in a tent, ten Lannister guards at his back, acing the Young Wolf across a long table, with ten Starks at his back. Tyrion had agree to a beginning of peace talks with Robb Stark, in truth, all he wanted was to buy time for Jasper's host to return, but without a host to command against him, or an able leader to command that host, this was Tyrion's only option.

"Lord Stark", Tyrion began, but he was hastily interrupted by the Stark's right hand man, the GreatJon Umber.

"King in the North, Imp."

"Until the Iron Crown recognises that", Tyrion countered, looking at the huge man, although not as huge as Ser Gregor, "he shall be Lord Robb Stark of Winterfell."

Lord Umber was about to make a remark, but the Young Wolf held out his hand to silence him. "We are here for peace GreatJon", he said, "provided the Lannisters meet my terms, there is no more reason for hate."

"A fine sentiment", Tyrion applauded the Stark, "so, how shall we begin?"

"My demands for peace must be met Lord Tyrion", Stark began, resting his hand upon the head of his Direwolf, who was far larger than Sansa's, easily taller than Tyrion himself, although that said little. "You must relinquish claim on the North and Trident, you must return my rightful blade, Ice, you must return both of my sisters, their betrothals broken, and you must surrender hostages to us for five years as a guarantee of peace."

"Let us not pretend Lord Stark", Tyrion said, dismissively, "you know we cannot give in to such demands."

"I know that until you do I will litter the south with your dead."

Tyrion sighed, to another the boy might come off as arrogant, but Tyrion knew people, he was not being arrogant, he was using what he knew of himself, thus far, Tyrion's father had failed to stop Robb Stark at every turn, Jaime was still rotting in a dungeon in Harrenhal, and now his host was less than a week's march from King's Landing, the city who's gates were knocked down by Renly in the last siege.

"At least hear my proposals, we can haggle from there", Tyrion said, and Robb nodded. Tyrion cleared his throat and began, "you must bend the knee to Joffrey", Tyrion said sharply, "that is essential, there will be no peace unless you bend the knee to him."

"Then there will be no peace at your peril", the Young Wolf replied, "that boy ordered my father put to death, until I get justice, whilst he is King, I will bend no knee."

"So", Tyrion said, "the only way for peace would be for another to sit upon the Iron Throne?"

The Young Wolf only nodded.

Tyrion narrowed his eyes, why would the boy request a peace talk if he was not prepared to look at the alternatives? It made no sense. "Listen, Lord Stark", he continued, "you have heard, no doubt about the crown prince's victory against the traitor Renly Baratheon", Robb Stark nodded, "before long, his host shall have interposed themselves between your own host and the capital. Shortly after that, once Mace Tyrell has been brought to bend his knee, his hosts shall march into the Riverlands to subdue the Tullys who now serve you. My father remains strong behind the Golden Tooth and the Arryn hosts shall not join you. You are alone, you are outnumbered and you are destined to fail, whether the failure is on your terms or not, is your choice."

"You Lannisters stripped my father of his honour, you imprison my sisters, you would shave us of all our pride, and then you demand supplication. I may not know your father, but I know he would not surrender under such circumstances."

"You are not my father Lord Stark", Tyrion replied. _You are so much better_, he thought.

"No", the Young Wolf replied, "I am Robb Stark, King in the North, and I shall not bend to Joffrey Baratheon." He marched back to his horse, mounting the steed with his men, and riding away.

Tyrion sighed at the seat where the brash youth had just been sitting. _A pity_, he thought, _he could have done so much_.

Tyrion mounted his own horse returning to King's Landing to carry on his role as Hand of the King.

At the capital Tyrion had just been about to settle in his chambers, when he heard that the Queen Regent, his sweet sister, had taken it upon herself to call a council meeting, so he left to attend it. Most who should have been present were not, the Master of Ships was in the North, not having yet reached the Wall in all likelihood; the Master of Laws, Tyrion's uncle Kevan Lannister was with Tyrion's father in the Westerlands and Jaime rotted in Harrenhal. As such the only council members present were himself, Cersei, Varys, Grand Maester Pycelle and Master of Coin Lancel Lannister, someone Tyrion had, as of yet, been unable to find a replacement for, so he had to suffer his presence.

"So dear sister", Tyrion said as he took his seat at the head of the table, "for what purpose did you call this meeting?"

Cersei only looked at Varys, so Tyrion did as well, wondering what the Master of Whisperers had uncovered that was so vital. "My Lord Hand", Varys began. "I have few little birds on the Iron Islands, however I have many in the Reach, and one of them has sent me this", he held up a scroll.

"And what is this?" Tyrion asked, slightly impatient, he had had a pointless ride out into the Crownlands to meet with Robb Stark, it was late, he had missed dinner and he was tired, he just wanted to get to bed.

"The Ironborn are, for the most part, retreating from the Reach. Only the Arbor and the Shield Islands remain under full Ironborn occupation and most of their longships have gone as well, most Importantly, the Iron Fleet has turned from hunting the Redwyne ships and also retreats."

Tyrion raised his eyebrows, "this could have waited until morning", Tyrion said, "which is why I know there is something more important going on here. You know where they are sailing don't you Varys."

Varys smiled, "like I said my Lord, I have few birds on the Iron Islands, but one of them has told me the fact that I needed to know. The Iron King, Balon Greyjoy has died, he fell from a bridge on Pyke during a storm." So the Iron King was dead, that made sense, Tyrion thought, they must intend to return and crown Theon Greyjoy Iron King in full ceremony, truth be told, he thought ceremony beyond the Ironborn. "One of his brothers, Euron Crow's Eye, who masterminded the sinking of the Lannister Fleet at the onset of the Greyjoy rebellion, has claimed the Seastone Chair. In response, their spiritual brother, Aeron Damphair, has called a Kingsmoot to name the next Iron King. It is believed that the claimants will include all of the now deceased Balon's close relatives. His brothers, Euron Greyjoy and Victarion Greyjoy, his daughter Yara Greyjoy and his son Theon."

Tyrion nodded, he had not heard of a Kingsmoot before, but it boded well if the Ironborn leadership were to fight amongst themselves for a few months, unfortunately, they had no Royal Fleet present to take advantage of the situation.

"Thank you for informing us Varys", Tyrion said. "In the morning I shall pen a letter to the Redwynes, asking them if their fleet is able to act against the Ironborn whilst they are occupied. The Royal Fleet would not make it in time, but they might."

"That is unlikely my Lord", Varys said, "my birds have informed me that the Redwynes have suffered many casualties, more than a hundred and thirty of their ships have been sunk, and many others have been captured, they shall likely be troubled by the longships and Ironborn that remain."

Tyrion nodded, it made sense, even if it repelled him for such an opportunity to present itself that could not be taken advantage of. He knew that the rebuilt Lannister Fleet, not at the strength it was at before Euron and Victarion Greyjoy had burned it to ash and cinders, would not be able to act and the only other fleet was the newly constructed Northern Fleet. For obvious reasons, they would not act under his orders, and besides, they were at White Harbour, it was the wrong side of Westeros.

"Well then", Tyrion said, "I shall act on this information tomorrow", Tyrion got up, "but for now I must rest."

"What of your peace talk?" Cersei asked, with a slight sneer ass though she already knew the answer.

"What you might expect from Ned Stark's son."

Tyrion went to bed that night happy, with the northerners outnumbered and the Greyjoys leaderless, the war might be over soon. He could hope at least.


	38. ASOS Victarion II

_A/N: Several questions have been asked so here are some of my answers to them. If you have any questions feel free to put them in a review and, unless it would be spoilery or the answers will be revealed within a few chapters, I shall try to answer them._

_Legend 3881 – There has been no official proclamation about the parentage of Joffrey, Tommen and Myrcella, there were only a few rumours around King's Landing mostly generated by the severe hunger that was spreading throughout the city and the people wanting someone to blame. As such the only people who could really have told Jasper about the rumours were Lannisters, who wouldn't want to, and Beric, who didn't believe it so saw no reason to. As far as Renly was concerned, he would make a better king, and as far as Robb is concerned, he just wants freedom, whether Joffrey is the true king or not is irrelevant. Also, there has been no massacre of the bastards. Joffrey's reaction to the rumours was, if you remember, to banish Jasper from the city, and Janos Slynt was killed by Ned's men when he was captured. Jacelyn Bywater would never commit such an action unless Tyrion authorised it anyway. So no killings of babies. _

_Vasun05 – Barristan has gone with Dany, until I reach the point where I need to start writing from that storyline, assume that the stuff in it happens the same way as it does in the canon. _

_Lady-Silvanas – I will elaborate on that in an upcoming chapter. _

_Now, onto the Kingsmoot._

Old Wyk, the holiest site to the Ironborn. Victarion had always felt a sense of purity whenever he landed on the beaches of this island. Where the Grey King slew Nagga the sea dragon, where the Kingsmoots of old took place to decide the Iron Kings, and where a new one would take place shortly to determine the next Iron King following Balon's death. Victarion's lip curled, he may have fallen from that bridge during a storm, but with the cursed Crow's Eye's return, so quickly after his brother's death, Victarion refused to believe it. He was eternally thankful for Aeron, his brother the Damphair had called the Kingsmoot so as to prevent Euron's ascension whilst the other claimants to the throne were absent. They could declare the Kingsmoot illegal, but that would result in civil war between the supporters of the Crow's Eye and those of Theon and Yara, who were both gathering supporters for the Kingsmoot which would take place in only a short while on Old Wyk itself. Also, in all the history of the Ironborn, one Kingsmoot had been declared illegal by the Ironborn, and that was due to a candidate not being there, Torgon Latecomer. Victarion had originally planned to support Theon, Balon's true heir, but then the reports had come in from the Arbor, and whilst he had taken the Island, bar some castles which remained under strong guard and could not be taken, he had done so only at the cost of three thousand reavers, a number that the Ironborn could not sustain. Victarion could not lie, his support had been shaken, indeed several of his captains had attempted to get him to claim the Seastone Chair himself, if only to ensure that Euron would not take it. Victarion was unsure, but had gathered to him the required champions, sent ships to the Narrow Sea and to the beaches of Dorne and the Reach to gather him some treasures for a plan he had to go to the Kingsmoot if he had to. He was sure what Crow's Eye would offer, he would offer the world to the Ironborn if it would get him their allegiance, then he would pursue his own dreams for power and glory, never caring for the traditions of the Ironborn, the Drowned God or his captains, they would be disposable, for a man such as that to sit in the Seastone Chair, would be unthinkable.

"Victarion", the Iron Captain turned to see the architect of the Kingsmoot, Aeron Greyjoy, his brother, approaching him along the beaches. Victarion waved a hand and his crewmen who had followed him from his ship, left for themselves, leaving the Iron Captain alone with the Damphair.

"Brother", Victarion greeted, moving towards the sea and kneeling in the waves. "Would you bless me?"

Aeron nodded and pulled out his waterskin, which he carried with him at all times. "Let Victarion your servant be born again from the sea as you were", Aeron intoned and Victarion could almost feel the presence of the Drowned God as the first trickles of water flowed across his face. "Bless him with salt, bless him with stone, bless him with steel."

"What is dead may never die", Victarion replied, as Aeron doused his face with each blessing.

"What is dead may never die", Aeron repeated, "but rises again, harder, and stronger."

Victarion stood and embraced his brother tightly. Not caring about the salt water on his face and knees and lower legs, embracing the feel of it and the blessings that came with it. "It has been too long brother", Victarion told him, releasing the Damphair and looking him over.

"You have been doing your duty to the Drowned God", Aeron replied, tonelessly, "I can fault none for that. It has, however, been far too little time between our last meeting with the Crow's Eye and now." Victarion's face darkened, the face of his Salt Wife, which had haunted him since he had beaten her to death following Euron's impregnation of her, flitted back to the front of his mind. "Victarion", Aeron said, sounding desperate, turning to him once he was sure they are alone. "Are you going to stand at the Kingsmoot?"

Victarion thought it over, "I do not know, I can, but I have always supported Theon's claim to the Seastone Chair, he was always meant to follow Balon."

Aeron shook his head. "Theon has been gone to long and been back not long enough, not enough captains support him. Yara is a woman, not enough captains will be loyal to her, no other house matters in this Kingsmoot, and if you do not stand, then the Crow's Eye will claim us all."

"If he wins the chair by acclaim in a Kingsmoot", Victarion pointed out, "he will be the Iron King."

Aeron shook his head again, "if Euron Crow's Eye becomes the Iron King we are doomed, he will destroy the Ironborn and the Old Way for his own selfish games, you must stand Victarion. If you want Theon to be King, let him succeed you."

Victarion turned out to sea, his true home, where he felt most at peace and with the most power. "Euron Greyoy is calling himself the Storm, Victarion", Aeron said and Victarion turned his head back to his brother, the Damphair. "You must be the King, or the Storm shall claim us all."

Victarion turned back to the sea. The one thing he would do anything to prevent was Crow's Eye sitting in the Seastone Chair. If Theon would not do so, then Victarion would have to do so himself. If only they had had a few more years, then Theon would be able to win. But the Damphair knew these things. If he said that the Ironborn would not support Theon, then Victarion could be certain that they would not. But there was always a chance. "If Theon's claim does not unseat the Crow's Eye at the Kingsmoot", Victarion said finally, "then I shall put forward my own, the Crow's Eye shall not be victorious here."

The captains and Lords of the Iron Islands were gathered at Nagga's Hill on Old Wyk, few remained out reaving, collecting glory and spoils for themselves, those were the ones who would support any King. However all of the captains and lords present were divided into five camps, the smallest being that around the Crow's Eye, for he was a latecomer, and had drowned Lord Botley when he had objected to Euron's claim. The next smallest was around Theon, who had mostly brash young captains and Minor Lords who hoped to profit from him being named King. Then there was the group around Yara, larger than most, for she had the support of two key houses. Harlaw of Harlaw and Blacktyde of Blacktyde. Then there were the captains of the Iron Fleet, who were all firmly around Victarion and would follow his decision. Wulf One-Ear, Ralph Kenning and others held the eight chests and three casks that Victarion would present should his claim need to be pressed, should Theon fail to rouse the others against the woman and the Crow's Eye.

Aeron gave the signal and the war drums and war horns sounded to announce the beginning of the Kingsmoot. Victarion did not even give the courtesy of listening to the three Ironborn champions who went before the Greyjoys. Gylbert Farwynd offered to lead the Ironborn away from their home, across the sunset sea, reminiscent of the Rhoynar queen Nymeria, and was shot down. Erik Anvilmaker might have previously done well in a Kingsmoot, but now he could not rise from his chair and Dunstand Drumm's speech was long winded and his gifts meagre. It was clear, a Kraken would follow the Kraken, a Greyjoy would follow the Greyjoy, the only question was which.

Theon was first. He stepped forward. "Lords and Captains", he declared for all to hear. And Victarion listened in, upset that Theon had gone before Yara, it was the last few that were listened to more in a Kingsmoot. "In the glory days of the Ironborn, our lands were not just here, in these lands, but extended from the Arbor to Bear Isle, and encompassed the lands of the Trident. Elect me King my captains, and I shall do the same. My father has begun in the south, with the Arbor and the Shield Islands, which are now Ironborn, I shall finish in the North and the West, by seizing for us, Bear Island and Fair Isle. These are the treasures of the south", he signalled to his captains who brought forward several crates of gems and gold, seized from the Arbor, and silver from the Twins. "Choose me to lead you, as I should as Balon's heir, and I shall bring to you, the treasures of the North." Theon received a smattering of support from the captains, but Victarion knew that against the Crow's Eye, it would be nothing, and that he would have to put forward his own claim on the throne. Judging by the look on Aeron's face, he knew that the Damphair thought the same. Theon's proposal had been sound, not unattainable like the Crow's Eye was bound to be. However, Balon's scorn of his son, and the fact that he had been growing up amongst the Greenlanders was probably what stopped most from supporting him and instead put their faith in others.

Yara stepped up next, when Theon had returned, looking dismayed at the results, to his seat. "My captains", she said, looking around, her champions, Qarl the Maid primary amongst them standing, axes bared and ready to fight, although the Damphair would permit no battles amongst the Ironborn, for no Ironborn shall spill the blood of another. It spoke to the Crow's Eye's character, that he should circumvent this most sacred rule by drowning Lord Botley instead of killing him. "Others shall offer you war, continued plunder and the Old Way. I shall offer you victory. We have already more than doubled our lands by seizing the Arbor and the Shield Islands. I shall keep these lands Ironborn, elect me the first Iron Queen, and I shall turn these lands into Iron Islands, so that in the future we can draw stock from them to fill out our reaving ships and Iron Fleets. Elect me Queen, and I shall grant us victory, peace and the chance to win peace forever, I shall pledge an alliance with the North, the Young Wolf has proven him a battle commander on land, and with our ships oon the seas there will be two nations gone from the Iron Throne and capable of supporting each other. This is the only way, alone we shall fall. But under my queenship, the Iron Islands shall, now and forever, be free!" Her captains poured the wealth of her raids along the Honeywine River and from Oldtown along the ground, it was more than any had yet produced, and she had many captains seemingly swayed to her. Maybe another would be able to halt the actions of the Crow's Eye.

"No woman shall sit the Seastone Chair", someone called, and Theon's champions took up the call, axes and blades were drawn and there was danger of a brawl between the two of them. Victarion was about to order his one hundred horn blowers, one from each of his ships, to sound their horns for his piece. But then a huge booming warhorn sounded across all of Old Wyk, so loud that it seemed to shake the bones of the Sea Dragon itself and maybe even rouse the Drowned God.

Euron Crow's Eye had got there first, resplendent with his black hair, beard and eye patch, and would now speak his piece.

"We are Ironborn", he declared, and his image caught the eye of all present, even Victarion could hardly tear his gaze away. "Once, we were conquerors, our will was enforced wherever the waves sounded, fear caught the hearts of men at the mere sight of our sails on the horizon. My nephew would be satisfied with a few measly islands, my niece with fewer Islands still. I on the other hand, why I shall offer you Lannisport and the Rock, Highgarden and the Mander, the Riverlands and the Reach, Dorne and the Marches, and the Vale and the North. I say we take it all, I say we take Westeros!"

Some lords cheered at that, but most remained sceptical, Victarion knew why. _It is not the world_, he thought, _but it is still too much for one man to take_. Yara voiced this thought. "And how will you achieve this Crow's Eye?"

Euron signalled, and his captains poured near mountains of gold in front of the captains, covering Nagga's cradle with coins, gems, cups, plates, treasures, silks and spices. "I have claimed these as I have reaved my way across the world", he said, walking over his treasure and towards the centre of the cradle to address everyone. "But of greatest value is the horn by which I prevented you", he pointed his sword at Yara, "and you", he turned it to Theon, "from breaking Ironborn law by spilling blood." He turned to the other captains. "That horn allows me to take control of Dragons, and I know where the last three of them can be found. Across the Narrow Sea, in Slaver's Bay. All I need are ships to get there. Elect me king, and I shall take Dragons, use them to seize Westeros, and return the Ironborn to our rightful place as masters of Westeros!"

That had done it, it seemed, for many captains, including several from the camps of Theon and Yara took up arms and began to call out "EURON KING!" However, despite some being nearly swayed, the Iron Fleet, Victarion noticed, were still behind him, and he knew what he had to do, first he had to put a stop to these calls and he signalled the horn blowers. The sound was nothing compared to Euron's monster horn, but it did the trick as Victarion stood up as the last claimant and the last hope of stopping the Crow's Eye.

"Captains", Victarion said as he stepped down to stand toe to toe with Crow's Eye. Oh how he sought to sink his axe into Euron's chest. "As usual the Crow's Eye offers much, and as always the sole beneficiary is him. He shall claim the Dragons if you elect him, if that is true, and then he will abandon us, our traditions, our religion, all of it will go up in flames like Harren the Black and Harrenhal. Besides, we do not need Dragons, allow me to show you why." He signalled his first seven chests of treasure be brought up, and seven of his men did so. "This is what the Crow's Eye offers you, the Reach", using his axe he smashed off the lock and then kicked the chest open, and out of the chest came flowers, grass and vegetables. "The North", he smashed open the next crate and kicked it open. Water and some brown sludge that had once been snow poured out, but there was still enough of the white snow that the surrounding captains could tell what it was. "The Westerlands", his axe bit through another lock, and once more he kicked it over, rocks came toppling out of it to mix with the Crow's Eye's gold, the flowers and the snow. "Dorne", this time he simply hacked out the bottom of the crate and the man who had brought it picked it up and threw it, sending sand flying everywhere. "The Stormlands", this next crate contained logs. "The Riverlands", a chest of mud was emptied all over the gold coins on the floor, Victarion made a note of thanking the Ironborn who emptied it for covering so much of the Crow's Eye's treasure. "And the Vale", the last chest contained a mix of rocks and fruits. Truth be told, the logs of the Stormlands, the Rocks of the Westerlands, the mud of the Riverlands and the rocks and fruits of the Vale had come from the Reach, but the effect was the same.

Victarion gave his next signal and two captives were brought forwards, the first was a noble son from the House of Hightower, Victarion forgot which one, but he wore expensive clothes and had a large gold necklace on, inlayed with a ruby, and the second was a large breasted woman, a woman that had been so wanton that she may as well have been a whore, called Falia Flowers, the bastard daughter of a lord of the Shield Islands. "I do not offer", Victarion said, "I promise", as the two captives were placed on the ground in front of him, Victarion had the biggest rapist of the Iron Fleet brought forward for this. "I promise, that if you name me Iron King, I shall make sure that the only price that matters in all of Westeros, and on the coasts of Essos is this one." He hefted his axe and sunk it into the Hightower son from behind, cleaving through his shoulder and ribs, into his lungs and heart. Blood joined the other "treasures" on the ground as Victarion reached around him, grabbed the necklace and yanked it off. "The Iron Price." Victarion left his battle axe in the son as he fell forward. Victarion reached down into the bottom of one crate and pulled out four gold coins from the bottom of it, and at the same time picking up some rocks from the ground. "I shall give you these", the coins fell to the ground with a tinkle, "without these", the rocks clattered down afterwards. "I shall give you gold", he held up his newly bought necklace, "and Salt Wives", he signalled and right then and there, the rapist took Falia Flowers, ripping her dress off, before shoving his cock into her, silencing her screams by clamping his fist over her mouth, allowing Victarion to be heard, although his grunts and her whimpers could be heard in the background. "How will I do this?" Victarion asked the crowd, he had learned when giving speeches before battle that it was always best to ask the questions yourself so that the men hear the doubts from you rather than another, who then becomes a rallying point for dissent. "Simple, others will offer you land, but we are Ironborn, Victarion beckoned his last treasures, three barrels carried by three of his most seasoned captains, each of them set the barrel down and withdrew hatchets. "I promise you, the Sunset Sea, the Narrow Sea and the Sea of Dorne", each of the captains hack into the barrels, splintering the wood on the top before hefting them up and turning them upside down, allowing the water from these three seas to pour out of them and onto the ground. "Name me Iron King, and I shall destroy any fleets that are arrayed against us, be it the Royal Fleet, the Redwyne Fleet or the Fleet of Braavos. Why, because we are Ironborn, and the sea is OURS!"

It was decided. Almost every captain took up arms and cried out into the sky. "VICTARION", and "IRON KING VICTARION", and, "THE SEA IS OURS!"

Victarion scanned the crowd for his family, Aeron looked pleased beyond measure, more so than Victarion had seen him since he had become a Drowned Man, Yara looked disappointed but seemingly swayed by his arguments, Theon was fuming, presumably over being denied his rights, but Victarion knew he had done the right thing, had he not, the Crow's Eye would be King. Victarion caught Euron's face. His brother face was darker than the storm he called himself, fury was in his eye, and Victarion's lip curled.

He had won.

The Crow's Eye had lost.


	39. ASOS Arya II

_A/N: Legend 3881: War is the Dothraki way and the villages of the Lhazareen are ideal targets for the Khals. Whether or not there was an attempt on Daenerys" life, I believe that Drogo would have made his way there anyway, which would lead to Daenerys preventing the rape of the victims, and the conflict between Drogo and the other guy, so in the end things still went the same way. I won't specify anything yet, but even if their son survived, then he would have been killed by the other Khals as a threat, leaving Daenerys in the same position. _

Arya was staring at the board intently, trying to decide where to move her next pieces. Jasper had taught her Cyvasse soon after they had arrived at Storm's End the first time, and he had insisted that practice made perfect and that the more she played the game the better she would get. However she was trying continuously, playing with Castellan Ser Gilbert, who also knew the game, in an attempt to improve. However she had lost every single time, and Ser Gilbert said that he was not very good himself, it was not very good at building confidence. However, Jasper had also told her he would buy her a brilliant suit of plate armour if she could beat him. But that had been just over a year ago, when she had first arrived at Storm's End, almost two since the Royal family had come to Winterfell to name her father Hand of the King. Nymeria was still faithfully at her side, Heward and Wyl remained in the castle as well as the other household members that had come with her, but Jasper was gone, off winning battles and forbidding her from fighting in them as well. In the end she decided to move her Heavy Horse forward so that her next turn she could charge forward and defeat Ser Gilbert's Crossbowmen.

Then Ser Gilbert moved his Dragon in and eliminated her Heavy Horse, had seen it behind a mountain but, as usual, had forgotten that the Dragon could fly over the mountain tile in front of it. Arya cursed, that Dragon had now been responsible for the loss of her Spearmen, her Light Horse and her Heavy Horse. In the meantime her own Dragon had only defeated Ser Gilbert's Spearmen and Rabble, her own rabble had been defeated by Ser Gilbert's heavy horse, which had in turn been destroyed by her Elephant, which had fallen to Ser Gilbert's Spearmen. All in all she was not in a good position and felt like just giving in to the loss and knocking her king to the ground in surrender.

However a knock on the door ended the game early. "Ser Gilbert", a servant said, poking his head around the door and drawing the attention of the Castellan. "There is someone here who wishes to see you."

Ser Gilbert nodded, "it seems we must cut this game short my lady", he said getting up, "let us play again some other time."

Arya nodded and, as Ser Gilbert left the room, she gathered up Jasper's pieces, they were playing with the Baratheon and Stark coloured pieces, Ser Gilbert with the Baratheons and herself with the Starks, and packed them away. The last piece to go was the Baratheon King, it was complete with black hair and a golden crown and looked a little like Jasper. A King needs a Queen, and Jasper needed a wife, and it was to be her. The thought had previously made her queasy, now it was just strange, the thought of marrying anyone else made her queasy, but Jasper was different. She had thought about what her father had said, what seemed like a lifetime ago when they first arrived in King's Landing. How Jasper might be the one person in the whole of Westeros who might be the sort of person she would want to marry, or at least that would allow her to be herself when married. She sloted the king into the padded slot and shut the lid of the box, packing it away, then she decided to go to the roof, to look out over the Stormlands again. A pastime she had taken to doing far too often, but there was little else to do, she knew most of the castle now, and she had already trained for the day. So she gathered up Needle, which she always kept on her, although she left her shortsword off for it was too heavy to wear on a day to day basis, and called Nymeria, and together they went to the roof.

How long Arya spent on the roof she did not know, but the sun had started to come down by the time she felt like coming back inside, when she did come back inside, she was greeted by Ser Gilbert Farring. "Lady Arya", he said, bowing slightly.

'ser Gilbert", Arya replied, nodding at him, "how may I help you?"

"You wished me to inform you of the duties of a lady", Ser Gilbert said, "well one of them is greeting the guests of their lord, and there is one in Storm's End now."

"Who is it", Arya asked.

"Just some traveller from Dorne, they claim to be a merchant's daughter on their way to the capital, they have paid handsomely to stay here", Ser Gilbert explained, 'she has and escort, but they are resting, she however needs company."

Arya nodded, it didn't seem to be too difficult and it would be good practice. After all, a merchant's daughter would hardly be a problem if she was rude as she was bound to be. "Very well, take me to her." So Ser Gilbert escorted Arya to her chambers, left and then returned a little while later with the guest. Arya sent Nymeria away, for it would not do well to have a wolf with the guest under their roof.

The woman was in her mid twenties, Arya found, waiting for them in a private room, she had long dark hair which was pulled back into a braid and a widows peak. She had a distinctly foreign look about her and when she spoke, it was with a strange accent which Arya had never heard before, but she could understand it well enough. "My Lady", she said bowing, "I thank you for this hospitality."

"Of course", Arya replied, not entirely sure what else to say, "can I offer you a drink, something to eat?"

The woman smiled, "that would be most welcome." Arya nodded and sent off for some wine, and some dinner for each of them.

Arya thought she was getting the hang of this when she was able to keep the conversations between the two of them going without much difficulty. They discussed many things, from King's Landing, where the woman had never been, Winterfell and Dorne itself. Arya found it hard to imagine such a dry and sandy place as the woman described, maybe she would ask Jasper to go there one day, see what it is like. Or maybe not, given the war that had just happened.

Then the woman noticed the Cyvasse board. "Do you play Cyvasse my lady?" She asked.

Arya grimaced. "I try, I am not very good though."

"My mother was a Volantene", the woman said, "the Volantene's brought the game to Dorne where my father learned it. I would be happy to teach you a little."

Arya, seeing the shiny suit of armour in her mind, instantly agreed. "Very well then", she retrieved Jasper's set, setting out the board and pulling out the Stark pieces for herself and the Martell pieces for the woman. "Would you like the Martell pieces?" She asked, "or one of the other houses?"

"House Martell is lovely", the woman said, examining the pieces in the Martell colours, "these are magnificently done, where did you get them?"

"They belong to Jasper", Arya explained, "Lord Bryce Caron gave them to him as his coming of age gift."

"I see", the woman said, as she set up her side of the board and Arya set up hers. "Let us play the game first, then I shall give you some hints after it."

So they played and soon Arya had lost all her major pieces, and her King was surrounded, so she quickly gave up. "You spread out your pieces too quickly and too far", the woman told her. "Keep them close where they can support each other and keep them safe."

So they played and Arya thought she saw an opening, she had kept her pieces together but then attacked a weak point, the Spearmen and Rabble of the woman, with her Dragon, it went well until the woman's Dragon took her own, at that point she was done. "Never take obvious bait", the woman told her next, "do that and the other player will be controlling your game."

Arya nodded, staring intently at her set up board, there was a prickling at the back of her neck that she could not explain, but Jasper had taught her to trust it. She had no idea what it meant though, so she did not know what to trust. The woman finished setting up first, which was different, normally Arya did, but the woman did not relax, causing Arya to look at her and she caught the woman's eye flick ever so quickly in the direction of her dinner plate, where a meat cutting knife's handle was pointing towards her. Arya looked back at the woman who caught her gaze.

They both acted, the woman reached for the knife, seizing it and slashing towards Arya, Arya saw that she had put Needle just out of reach, so did the only thing that she could think of and pushed the table at the woman, knocking her back of her seat with a clatter before rushing to retrieve Needle. She whipped out the thin blade and was just able to spin in time to see the woman leap to her feet, two new knives in her hands and Arya had no idea where she had been hiding them. The woman leapt at Arya, who used Needle's reach to keep the woman back. "GUARDS!" She yelled, hoping there were some nearby. The woman only smiled and continued the attack. Arya's eyes were desperately trying to keep track of both knives as she parried every strike the woman came at her with. But she was still being forced back to the sound of steel on steel. Eventually she was pressed against the wall and was forced to roll to the side when the woman came at her. Arya sprang to her feet, finding herself just by her shortsword, she drew it out, and spun, now she had two weapons, the same number as the assassin. Needle in her right hand and the shortsword in her left, Arya ducked and dodged, parried and attacked as the woman and herself danced around the room, trading blows. Then the woman thrust with one curved dagger and Arya, completely instinctively, dodged to the side and brought her shortsword down, severing the right arm halfway down the forearm and causing the woman to scream in pain. Arya then leapt in, plunging Needle into the woman's left shoulder, causing her to drop her other dagger and pinning her to the bed post. "GUARDS!" She called again and three men burst through the door, swords out.

"My lady", one of them began, "what-"

"No time for whats", Arya replied harshly, "you are late, go and arrest this woman's escort, seize them and their weapons and throw them in a cell, then bring Ser Gilbert here."

The guards nodded and rushed off. Arya herself turned back to the whimpering women, still pinned against the bed post, blood pouring from her severed arm, both the part of the floor and the rest still attached to her body, although both were rapidly going white. Arya cut of some bedding and bound the stump tightly, as she had seen Jasper do after the trident, although she used a lot more bedding, but it still turned red in moments.

'so", Arya said, breathing heavily and staring into the face of the woman, contorted in pain. "Who are you really?"

"N-N-Nymeria Sand", she replied through gritted teeth.

"Why did you try to kill me?"

"My sister", the woman said, 'she died to your future husband's sworn shield."

'so you wanted revenge", Arya said harshly, wanting to spit in her face but refraining from doing so.

"I would have had it, but now my father will claim it for us both."

"How?" Arya asked, and the woman began to droop. "How?"

"He is Oberyn Martell, the Red Viper, "he can have anything."

Not long after the guards returned, a dozen of them, with Gilbert Farring leading them. "My Lady", he asked breathlessly, Arya noted his sword had blood on it and his surcoat had a cut through the middle, but he appeared unhurt. "We arrested this woman's guards, three of them died but four remain."

Arya nodded. "This is Nymeria Sand", she told Ser Gilert, "Oberyn Martell's daughter."

Gilbert nodded, "the guards said so as we spoke to them. What will you do with her my lady?"

Arya thought. _Our way is the old way, men who hide behind executioners forget what death is._

"Take her outside and find me a block", she declared. Ser Gilbert nodded and two of his men took her out, whilst another retrieved the knives of Nymeria Sand.

They went outside into the dying sun where much of the household had gathered to see what must be done. The guards forced Nymeria Sand down and Nymeria the wolf stood beside Arya, snarling at those who came close. Ser Gilbert passed her an axe, but she turned it down and instead drew her recently sharpened shortsword. Then she looked over the assembled guards and members of the household. "In the name of Jasper of the House Baratheon, Lord of Storm's End and Lord Paramount of the Stormlands", Arya declared to them, "I Arya, of the House Stark, his betrothed, do hereby sentence you, Nymeria Sand to death." Arya gripped her sword and looked at the remaining Dornish guards, who looked at her in horror. Arya raised her sword and brought it down in a two handed strike at Nymeria Sand's neck, but missed partially, catching it with only one part of the sword and so only partly severing the neck. Nymeria Sand screamed again and Arya brought the sword around and down once more, this time hearing the snap of bone and the squelch of skin as it cut through her neck and the head went rolling. Breathing heavily, she sheathed her sword, listening to the cheers of the crowd and called the surviving Dornishmen to her. Arya felt the anger at the injustice of the assassination attempt course through her. _You must act harshly against such cowardly acts, dissuade others from trying the same_, Jasper had told her that once. "What should I do to you?" Arya asked them, "for consorting in such an assassination attempt?"

"We only did as our lady commanded", one of them spoke, in the same accent as the others. 'she commanded our swords and we gave them to her."

"Very well", Arya said, 'ser Gilbert, remove their sword hands then escort them back to Dorne with their lady's head."

"Yes my lady", Ser Gilbert said as Arya stalked of back inside, determined to find a new room to sleep in that night. The Dornish would now regret trying to kill her, and would not try again. She wondered what Jasper would have done. Her uncle Brandon had ridden to the King and demanded blood for the kidnapping of his sister. Would Jasper have ridden to Sunspear and demanded the same. Or would he have been more like his father, and began a war to get his vengeance?


	40. ASOS Jasper II

_A/N: Thank you to all who pointed out a mistake I made. It has not been two years since Arya came to Storm's End, that has only been one year, it has been about two years since the Royal Family came to Winterfell. I have gone back and changed that, but the rest of the chapter is the same, so if you don't want to go back, then there is no need. Sorry for the mistake._

The march back to King's Landing was going well, Jasper's column of men, twelve thousand strong, was marching for the capital with the support of every lord who had only sworn to surrender to the crown after Jasper's capture of Renly, these included Mathis Rowan and Randyll Tarly, Lord Mace's two best battle commanders. Jasper had given command of the host of the Reach to Axell Florent, a man who served Stannis, and had ordered him to march into the Riverlands to the south, to fight the Northerners. Jasper remembered well how the Reacher Lords had taken his order. It still brought a small smile to his face.

"_Prince Jasper", Lord Rowan had exclaimed when he had ordered Ser Axell into the Riverlands. "The Ironborn reave in the west, surely they should be our concern." _

_Jasper shook his head, "the Ironborn are attacking you, defeating them proves nothing, you shall prove your new loyalty to the realm by ordering your forces to march under the command of Ser Axell Florent against the Riverlands, and the Northern rebels." _

"_But my prince, the Ironborn", began Ser Jon Fossoway, and Jasper could not see why it concerned him so much, his lands were far from the coast. _

"_Were going to attack you when your hosts marched east", Jasper interrupted him. "It is not my concern that Renly marched his entire host west and allowed the Ironborn free reign in the West." _

_A third lord attempted to argue once more for marching west rather than east, but Jasper quickly shot him down, "there will be no more discussion on the matter", he declared, "your hosts shall march north and fight Robb Stark, there you will earn your redemption on the battlefield, and be grateful that Tywin Lannister is not at court to pass judgement on you himself." _

_That cowed the reacher Lords significantly._

"My Lord", Jasper looked up and one of the guards at his tent had poked his head inside. "The Lady Margaery to see you."

Jasper gritted his teeth and nodded, he knew this moment would come eventually. Due to the Ironborn attacks on the western coast of the Reach and the Mander, on which Highgarden was located, when Renly had been defeated at King's Landing, Margaery had been sent to Goldengrove, the seat of House Rowan, who were, under their current Lord Mathis Rowan, very loyal to the Tyrells in Highgarden. He had ordered that Margaery be sent for, alone, no woman companions of hers, to join in the return to the capital. Somehow, Jasper had not quite worked out how, Margaery had convinced him to give her free run of the camp, she had spent much time with his lords as well as with the captives, according to Beric, smuggling extra food to them, but Jasper allowed it. The Stormlands bordered the Reach, that would not change, and it was far better for him to have a sympathetic Lord of the Reach than one who had been starved whilst a captive in his camp.

But now Margaery had come to see him. Jasper's mind flashed back, to just inside the Dragon's Gate of King's Landing during the battle for the city, where he had met Loras Tyrell, who was leading the Tyrell Vanguard, and had slain him in single combat, though he nearly fell himself, for Loras was a strong swordfighter, and he was more than capable of defending himself, but he had been worn by battle, and whilst Loras was often better with a Lance than Jasper, even before he got High Justice, he could reliably defeat Loras Tyrell with a blade. He wondered just how much Margaery held that against him. She came in one of her dresses, the ones that revealed enough for Jasper to feel a stirring inside him, and want to take her and fuck her like he had her cousin Alla. But the knowledge that she had married his uncle, attempted to fuck him just so she could be the queen of the Seven Kingdoms repelled him. 

"Jasper", she said, smiling as she gave a proper little curtsy. "Thank you for seeing me."

"What do you want Margaery?" Jasper asked, curt with his reply to the so called maid of Highgarden. Jasper had trouble believing that, even with Renly, Margaery had not found a way to try and get a son for him. Or rather, for her own ambitions.

"Can I not simply wish to speak with you?" She asked, looking at him with raised eyebrows.

Jasper scoffed. "The reports must have reached you, even in Goldengrove", he said, "I cut your brother down inside the Dragon Gate, I severed what friendship I had with your family in the name of my duty, do not pretend we are friends any longer Margaery."

Margaery's face fell slightly, but there was still a certain… recognition there. "I do not believe you killed my brother out of spite, and dying on the battlefield, in the defence of his king, that is what he would have wanted."

Jasper raised his eyebrows, unconvinced. "And that is enough to consider me free of blame for his death?"

Margaery nodded, "people die all the time Jasper. My brother is dead, and I am not Ashara Dayne, I shall not throw myself from a tower, that is not what Loras would have wanted, I shall live for him, and not cast blame. He died for his cause in a worthy way; it is only a pity that he will be remembered as being a traitor for it."

Not trusting himself to reply in a non insulting way, he said nothing, although he thought to himself, _he was a traitor, that is how he should be remembered._ Instead he took a drink from his goblet of wine, waiting for Margaery to ask what she came here to ask. "What will happen to Renly?" She asked after a short silence.

Jasper shrugged, "That will be up to Uncle Tyrion and my dear brother", Jasper grimaced, raising his goblet in a mock toast to Joffrey. "With luck, they will keep him alive."

Margaery looked surprised. "That does not sound like you", she said, "given your belief in justice, I would have thought you would seek his death as a traitor."

"He is still my family", Jasper snapped back at Margaery, "that means something." Jasper took a breath, "that and it shall be one last punishment for your family." Margaery looked confused, so Jasper explained, propping his feet up on his desk as he did so. "You shall remain a hostage in King's Landing, with your husband, and thus keeping your father loyal to the crown from now on."

Margaery had a strange expression on her face that Jasper had not seen before, he could not place what it was, or even what it was between so peculiar was it. "You are more than just a swordsman and a lord", she said finally, after a long pause. "You are a player."

Jasper raised his eyebrows. He did not understand, "a player?"

Margaery nodded, "you are playing the game, from what I have heard of Stannis, he sounds like he would hate the game, and here you are playing it. The game of thrones."

Jasped now knew what she was on about and fresh anger began to course through him. He remembered Stannis describing the game of thrones to him on Dragonstone, safe from prying ears in King's Landing. _This game of thrones is a mummer's farce, _he had said, _it is a justification for others to attempt to control the Throne or take it for their own, if you get the chance Jasper, end this cursed game once and for all._ "You think this war is part of the game of thrones?" He asked Margaery and she nodded. Jasper swung his legs off the table and rushed over to Margaery, seizing her by the throat. "There are two things about the game of thrones that I cannot stand, people are justifying wars with it", he drew his shortsword and held it against Margaery. "This is no game Margaery, here people die, your brother died, Lord Stark died, thousands of soldiers have died, Balon Greyjoy has died, and you still preach that this is a game." He released her and swept around to his bed, laying down on it.

"And the other thing?" Margaery asked.

Jasper held up his hand from lying down on his bed, his finger extended to the roof of the tent from the back, he hoped that Margaery understood that he was holding up one finger, not pointing. "They say the game of _thrones_. There is one throne. Singular."

Margaery didn't know how to respond, which made Jasper smile a little, he liked it when those who thought to control him were stopped in their tracks, even when it was for something as small and insignificant as grammar. "You deny it, yet by doing what you are doing, you are playing, whether you like the game or not, whether the grammar is to your liking", there was a sort of bite to her tone, in amongst the pleasantry of it.

"I know a little of politics", Jasper replied, looking at her and gesturing to a seat for Margaery to take, "I had to, growing up in the Red Keep, that does not mean that I partake in the farce of the game of thrones."

Margaery nodded, supposedly not wanting to give rise to Jasper's anger, she knew that he held her life by a thread. A thread he could cut at any time. "I understand Jasper", she said, her head bowed low. "I apologise."

Jasper nodded in acceptance of the apology, remembering all the fun times he had had with Margaery and her brothers in Highgarden, along the Mander and in the castle itself. "Lady Margaery", he called out to her, once she had turned to leave. She looked over to him, "it would be best for you to cover up more once we reach King's Landing", he indicated her cleavage, "my brother would waste no time in taking advantage of you dressed in that state."

"You truly hate him don't you?" Jasper only nodded. "I am sure I can handle myself Jasper, he will not hurt me."

"Forgive me", Jasper said, getting out of his bed, swinging his legs over the side so that he was sitting on the edge before rising to his feet. "I must not have been clear, you will cover up more."

"Why are you so concerned?" Maraery asked, "you are promised to another are you not, and I am married."

"Because my brother already thinks I am out for his throne", Jasper told her. "If he sees you like that then he will spread rumours that you and I have been fucking the whole time. I care not for rumours but I could do without them."

Margaery nodded. As Jasper turned away from her again, she spoke out loud to him, something that Jasper was glad no one else was present to hear. "If what Alla says is anything to go by", Jasper spun, eyes wide and staring, "then being bedded by you would be worth your brother's scorn, even if it makes you more like your father." Jasper seized Margaery by the throat tightly, constricting it so that her eyes widened in fear. "I never meant any insult."

"You meant it very well", Jasper snarled back, "did I not say, many times back at Highgarden _never_ to equate me with my father." Margaery nodded. "Did Alla compare me to my father?" _She always seemed a better person than that_.

The rose of Highgarden shook her head. "That was what Renly said when he found out."

"She told _Renly!_"

Margaery looked confused. "No Jasper, but everyone knows that you did, what is more interesting is that you do not know that we all know. Did Alla not say…?"

"Alla said nothing to me", Jasper replied, wondering just how everyone knew, but decided that actually, if it was due to someone finding out via gossip, despite how careful they were, or because someone followed them and watched, which as even worse, he did not want to know. But if someone was following them, no doubt it was Lady Olenna's doing, she was always a sly one that wily old woman. "And if she has anything to say", he continued, when Margaery opened her mouth to continue. "Then she can tell me herself, either by raven or in person."

Jasper glared at Margaery until she backed down. "Very well Jasper", she said, "I respect your choice." Jasper nodded as Margaery left the tent.


	41. ASOS Tyrion II

_A/N: Trap3r – I did seriously consider that for a while, but in terms of overall plotline, what is explained in the chapter won out. _

_To all those wondering about Jasper not demanding answers about Ned, that will be explained next chapter. _

The streets of the capital were lined with the people as they awaited their victorious prince, who would return from the war with ten thousand of his men parading through the streets of the capital and all the prisoners in carts behind them, treated with dignity, but in a position that made it very clear that they were traitors to the realm and to be punished for their actions. Tyrion could only hope that Joffrey did not do what he did to Ned Stark, or they would never earn the respect or loyalty of the Reach, and given that they had supported the Targaryens in Robert's Rebellion, and Daenerys Targaryen was rising in the East, Tyrion knew that they needed the still powerful Reach on their side.

That did not mean that Tyrion intended to treat them lightly.

Joffrey himself was waiting at the top of the steps, The Hound and Meryn Trant behind him the rest of the Kingsguard on the step in front of him. On the step below that was where Tyrion, Cersei, Tommen and Myrcella waited for Jasper's return. The two youngest royals standing beside their mother, with strict instructions from her that they were to behave like true royals and not rush to Jasper in public. Instead they were to wait until they were inside. However Tyrion could see that they were straining their ears, waiting to hear the populace of King's Landing cheer upon the return of their Black Prince.

Tyrion knew that, when entering the city, much of his host would remain outside to await instructions from their lord. He knew that, of the ten thousand men that Jasper had brought to the capital, around three hundred would accompany Jasper himself into the city and towards the Red Keep, close to two thousand other soldiers would probably be sent throughout the rest of the city so that all could see the victorious soldiers, even if not all of them would see Jasper. Everyone else would be waiting for Jasper to tell them whether to march south and home or north to confront the encroaching host of the Young Wolf. Maybe that was where the rest of his host was, for, with the ten thousand men of the Dornish Marches remaining to maintain watch over the Dornish demobilisation, of whom some would detach to escort the Dornish Prince Oberyn Martell to the capital to sign the peace treaty with Joffrey, or rather, himself since Joffrey was too kingly to put quill to paper himself. That meant, that with the ten thousand men accompanying Jasper, there were thirty thousand Stormlander forces unaccounted for.

At the same time, there were close to twenty thousand northerners unaccounted for. He had expected the northern forces, under the Young Wolf's personal banner, to come bearing down on the city, desperate to claim their independence, but no such attack had emerged, for which Tyrion was grateful, they could have taken the city easily with it's defenders dead and gone and two gates destroyed. But there was nothing to indicate where they were, some reports came through saying that they were marching back north, some said they were even now marching on the city, some said they were waiting at Duskendale and others said they were awaiting ships to attack King's Landing from the south. Tyrion chose not to put his faith in any of them, but rather to wait and see. Maybe something else had happened. Something that had changed things for Robb, the Reacher hosts may have made it into the Riverlands, but surely Robb Stark would not have been so foolish to abandon a march on the capital, with a chance he would never have again, to save the Riverlands when his capital of Winterfell was far in the North safe and protected.

As he was thinking this, the noise began. It started far off and, judging from the direction of the sounds, Jasper was entering the city through the Gate of the Gods, which was both the furthest from the Red Keep and had the straightest route to it from any gate, for the road from the Gate of the Gods led directly from that corner of the city to the Red Keep itself. The cheering got closer and closer. Tyrion had seen the streets as the people had been making ready for the Black Prince, they had lain flowers on the road and many more had petals with which to throw over the victorious men of battle. Finally, from the volume of the cheering, Tyrion could guess that Jasper was crossing the drawbridge. Which he did, and he looked magnificent, even Tyrion could see so. Resplendent in black armour that was accentuated by the brilliance of the sun on the white cobbles, riding his black horse and his black hair flying behind him, the stubble on his cheeks and jaw making him seem more like Robert, when he had won the rebellion, although there was definitely some Stannis in him still. Following Jasper directly into the courtyard, supposedly the rest of his knights were riding through the city, were twenty knights, in full shining armour. Two bore the Baratheon banner, huge and proud as the black stag pranced across the golden field. Meanwhile the others lined up and dismounted, as Jasper did at the base of the steps. Then, at once, with only the banner bearers remaining seated and proud, all of the knights bowed before King Joffrey. Tyrion noticed that six of them, judging by their heads as they removed their helms prior to bowing, Ser Beric Storm, Ser Rolland Storm, Ser Loren Jast, Ser Guyard Morrigen and Ser Balon Swann, instead of bearing the sigil of their houses on their cloaks, bore a black cloak, with a golden shield with a lightning bolt on it. _Jasper, are you forming your own sort of Kingsguard? _Tyrion thought, but he had no time to consider the matter as, in plain clothes rather than armour, and bound together by the wrists, the captured Reacher Lords, including, to Tyrion's surprise, Lord Mace's daughter Margaery, were brought before the King. Renly himself was bound in chains and brought on behind them, although he was dragged to the front when they were all forced to their knees by the guardsmen of House Baratheon who accompanied them.

"Brother", Jasper called out. "I present to you our Uncle Renly, and all those who willingly, and in full knowledge of the falseness of his claim, swore to his side."

Joffrey smiled an evil smile and descended the steps, still flanked by his Kingsguard in their white cloaks and armour, towards the traitors. Tyrion, eager to be in a position to reign his nephew in, followed him closely. "Well well uncle", Joffrey gloated to Renly, who did not look up from the ground, and did not reply. "Finally learned your place have we?" Still Renly did not respond or look up. "Well", Joffrey declared. "As we learned with Ned Stark, I will not allow treason to go unpunished. Ser Ilyn", the King's Justice approached and Tyrion knew what was about to happen, he had always known it really. But Jasper's face tightened and his hands balled into fists. "Bring me his head."

There were applause from those around the courtyard, apart from Tommen and Myrcella, who buried their faces in their mother's skirts, and Jasper and his men, who remained hard faced. Jasper in fact swiftly approached Joffrey and whispered in his ear. There was too much sound for Tyrion to hear what was being said, but Jasper looked as though he was pleading for Joffrey to reconsider. Admirable, but not helpful, Renly had to die, it was Lord Mace and the Reacher Lords who had to survive. Joffrey shook his head. "Now now brother", he told Jasper gloatingly. "You have done your job on the battlefield, now let me do mine."

Jasper looked as though he was fuming as Ice, the Valyrian Steel Greatsword of House Stark, which had decapitated it's owner in Ser Ilyn's hand, was raised once more by the King's Justice. Renly only bent his head down as two gold cloaks held him fast. And Ice sliced cleanly through the skin and bone of Renly's neck. _This was a war of four Kings_, Tyrion thought to himself. _Now two of them are dead. Of the two who remain, one has never lost a battle and one has never fought one. _

Joffrey turned, and looked as though he was about to pass similar judgement upon the Lords of the Reach, so Tyrion intervened. "Your Grace", he called and Joffrey turned to him. "Allow me to take these traitors inside and deal with them", he told his nephew, "you need not sully your presence with them any longer."

Joffrey nodded. "A fine suggestion Uncle", Joffrey replied, "just make sure that they are punished for their actions." Tyrion nodded and, just after Joffrey had left, he ordered the Reacher Lords be brought inside, with Mace Tyrell, his son Garlan, and his daughter Margaery brought before him in the Tower of the Hand so as to negotiate their peace talks with his guest.

"Jasper", Tyrion called out to his victorious nephew who was fuming silently as he headed for the gatehouse again. Jasper turned and looked to Tyrion. "Tommen and Myrcella wish to see you." Jasper's eyes flicked up to his siblings, who were not looking at Renly's headless corpse but still were turned away, facing towards the gate to the Red Keep. Jasper then nodded and swept past Tyrion, who entered the castle himself to pass judgement upon the Reacher Lords.

Tyrion took his seat, Ser Garlan, Lady Margaery and Lord Mace standing opposite him, unbound and unarmed, Lannister swords standing around the room in case they try anything. His guest was also standing there, a ledger under his arm and a purple hat upon his head, his features were long and thin and his moustache even more so. "Lord Mace", Tyrion greeted, "Ser Garlan, Lady Margaery", he added. "Let us keep this brief, I do not wish to be here long. Nor, I imagine, do you." He beckoned his guest forwards. "Ever since your defeat at the Reach, I have been thinking of ways to accurately punish you for your actions of treason. I have come up with some terms that you will have to agree to, or else my father may inflict upon you what he inflicted upon the Reynes and Tarbecks. Do not worry", he said, when Lord Mace had a flash of fear on his face at what Tyrion had just said. "They are simple terms. The crown owes you no debts from this moment forward, they are cancelled. You shall also adopt eight hundred thousand Gold Dragons of debt to the Iron Bank of Braavos", Tyrion indicated his guest, who took a seat on Tyrion's side of the table.

"My name is Tycho Nestoris, representative of the Iron Bank of Braavos", he said, smiling slightly, "I have the paperwork written up here already", he continued, passing the ledger over to Mace Tyrell, as well as a quill and some ink and some wax for Lord Mace's seal. "You need only sign and seal it and it shall be done."

Tyrion had expected Lord Mace to pick up the quill immediately, instead he briefly looked at Garlan and Margaery and, when they nodded at him, he looked instead at Tyrion. "My I make a proposal my lord?" Tyrion arched an eyebrow, curious, and nodded. "I would be willing to adopt one million gold dragons of the crown's debt, as well as cancelling our own. In return Margaery would wed Joffrey and give him an heir."

He scoffed, "why should I marry my nephew off to a traitor's daughter?" Tyrion asked, although he could already see the benefits of such an arrangement, provided he could gain certain acquiescences from the Lord Paramount of the Reach.

"The king needs a queen to give him a son", Ser Garlan pointed out, "Margaery is, thanks to him, now eligible to wed, she remains pure, for Renly swore not to touch her before they had won the throne. She will be a good and dutiful wife to him, in everything."

Tyrion thought, it would be good to bind the House Tyrell to the throne, should the Targaryen girl return, it would prevent her from having a strong force of men to side with her. "One million two hundred thousand gold dragons", Tyrion countered to the Lord of the Reach, "knowledge that you will not necessarily gain a council seat due to this and no more than ten guardsmen to remain in the city, with the sole purpose of defending Margaery, and the deal is done." Tyrion remembered how difficult it had been for Robert, or rather Ned Stark and Jon Arryn, to rule the realms from the capital when it was the queen who held the loyalty of most of the skilled fighting men in the city.

Lord Mace did not even need to consider. "Agreed", he said at once.

_He must be truly desperate to have his own blood upon the Iron Throne_, Tyrion thought. "Lord Nestoris", Tyrion began, turning to the banker.

"I am no Lord My Lord", the banker replied smiling slightly. "Simply a humble worker of the Iron Bank of Braavos."

"Well", Tyrion said, "Tycho Nestoris, could you please rewrite the terms of your reallocation of the debt. In the meantime", he said, getting up, "you shall all remain confined to chambers in the Red Keep until the contracts are done." The guardsmen escorted the three Tyrells from the room and Tyrion left to find Jasper, and ask him about the whereabouts of his thirty thousand men.

He found his nephew with his other nephew, his niece and Lady Sansa, Lady Sansa's Direwolf curled around her feet obediently, in the Godswood. His armour was off and he was in simple black and gold. Jasper appeared to be telling them a tale, and if Tyrion was to guess it would be of the war. Much as he hated to disrupt time between family members as close as them, Tyrion knew that the war was of far greater significance.

It was for that reason that he called Jasper over to take a walk with him alone. If possible he would avoid speaking of the newly arranged betrothal, for Jasper was raised by Stannis, and would almost certainly object. "I was wondering Jasper", Tyrion said, not wasting any time, "you said you would bring ten thousand men to the city, where are the rest of them?"

"Further along the Roseroad", Jasper replied, "I wanted to bring the prisoners swiftly when I heard that Robb was approaching the capital. So I force marched this host to the capital, so as to defend it. Lord Ralph Buckler leads the rest up behind me. Well, most of them", Jasper said, but I sent riders ahead, outriders mostly, they put up many banners and spread rumours that I was a matter of days from the capital, I hoped to dissuade Robb from attacking, it appears I was successful, in a way."

"In a way?" Tyrion asked, "what do you mean?"

"Have you not heard?" Jasper asked him, eyebrows raised, Varys surely knows, I found out at Grassy Vale. Lord Hoster Tully is dead. Robb probably returned to Riverrun for his funeral."

Tyrion gave a sigh of relief. A timely death for the old lord of Riverrun. "Do not be too relieved", Jasper warned Tyrion, "the Blackfish is the main threat from the Riverlands, and he remains alive and well."

Tyrion nodded, it made sense the Blackfish had led the resistance against the initial Lannister invasion of the Riverlands. "So when Lord Buckler arrives", Tyrion asked, "you will march on the Young Wolf?"

"No", Jasper replied instantly, shocking Tyrion who turned to him.

"You will not?"

Jasper shook his head, "no I will not, I will hold the city and try to persuade Robb to peace, but he is my friend, and the brother of my future wife, I will not march against him."

"Joffrey will not be happy with that", Tyrion pointed out, hoping to get Jasper to march by convincing him that Joffrey would kill him, although he hardly expected it to work.

"His grace will be satisfied with my men camped outside the walls defending his city", Jasper replied, looking up at the Red Keep. "If he is not, he may find one morning that they are gone, and his city is defenceless." Tyrion bit his lip, he did not want to call Jasper's bluff here, for Stannis did not bluff, and Jasper aspired to be Stannis. "The Reacher Lords are marching against Robb", Jasper told Tyrion, "I made sure of that, my men will not be needed." With that, Jasper turned and left, and Tyrion wondered where Jasper's smile had gone, had war taken it from him.


	42. ASOS Jasper III

Years of teaching. Years of tutoring. Years of lecturing. Stannis had given Jasper all of these and it was only due to them that Jasper had not completely flown into a fury upon hearing the result of the terms of surrender meeting that Tyrion had had with Lord Mace, Garlan and Margaery. He declared that Tyrion was intentionally making a laughing stock out of House Baratheon for making the match and that Joffrey was betraying their name by consenting to it. This was why, instead of keeping ten thousand men close to the city to defend it against Robb Stark, Jasper had pulled his support, sending riders to Lord Buckler, telling him to turn south, and that they were to meet at Storm's End. He would not support someone who sought to sully the name and blood of his house by marrying a traitor. They may be able to offer men and gold, but they were traitors, plain and simple, you do reward traitors with crowns and queendom. He had left in the night so as not to embarrass the royal family further before the people of the city, but he had left all the same. There had been a moment when he had considered staying behind, and that was when his Grandfather, Tywin Lannister, had arrived in the city, with an escort of two hundred Lannister swords, leaving his brother behind in the Westerlands to command the Lannister host to take the reins of power from Tyrion. However Tywin had not reversed Tyrion's decision, he had forced the Tyrells to pay for the wedding themselves, as further recompense for their treason, but had not stopped it. So Jasper left, eager to see Storm's End once more.

Jasper understood that the most eligible women did happen to be on the rebels side, but at least Sansa and Arya were family to rebels of a just cause, a Northman _could_ see Robb as their true king, but those who had sided with Renly knew him to be a traitor from the beginning.

So Jasper passed through the gate at Storm's End, glad to be home, and thankful to see Ser Gilbert and Arya waiting for him. Arya had Needle at her waist, but not her shortsword, and Nymeria was, as always, faithfully at her side. Arya had changed significantly, she wore her hair long and braided down her back, rather than in two brads coming down over her shoulder, she britches as usual, but different ones, a different tunic as well, and they were not covered in mud, but well kept and clean. Also, and Jasper felt a little disgusted in himself for thinking it, given that Arya was only fourteen, and only just, he believed he missed her nameday by two weeks, but she filled out her clothes much more than she did when he left, her breasts were larger and her hips wider, although they were still smaller and narrower than most men looked for in a wife, he could not deny that she had grown much more desirable. Then Jasper noticed Ser Gilbert, who was simply standing, arms folded, upon the bottom step.

He dismounted and approached them, Devan taking his horse away to the stables. "Arya", he greeted, smiling slight, "Gilbert."

"Jasper", Arya smiled, and she approached him swiftly and hugged him, which surprised Jasper, something had happened, it must have done, for Arya was not normally like this.

"My Lord", Gilbert replied, "we are glad to see you safe."

Jasper nodded, "has anything happened whilst I have been gone?"

"Nothing much", Arya replied very quickly. Far too quickly.

"Don't be ridiculous Lady Arya", Ser Gilbert chastised, and Jasper saw the expected flash of annoyance on her face. 'there was an assassination attempt on the Lady Arya's life."

Jasper's heart leapt. "What?" He looked over Arya, "are you hurt?"

"No", Arya insisted.

"Who did it!" He demanded fiercely, his heart raging, "I want their head on a spike!"

'The Lady Arya already took it", Ser Gilbert told him. "It was Nymeria Sand, one of-"

'The Sand Snakes", Jasper finished grimly. Oberyn Martell's bastard daughters. He looked over Arya again. "Did she scratch you, even a little?"

"No", Arya said, slightly concerned by the tone in her voice. "I am fine Jasper."

"One scratch would be poisoned Arya, are you sure."

"If I had been poisoned by her I expect that I would be dead", Arya said flatly. "Do not be so concerned."

Jasper nodded. After calming down a little, he asked, "you took her head?"

Arya smiled a little, "my father would have done", she explained.

"He would not have done what she did next though", Gilbert added quietly.

"What did you do next!" Jasper demanded.

'she ordered the sword hands of her guards removed and her head sent back to Dorne with them, as a message for Prince Oberyn", Ser Gilbert told him.

Jasper's lips pressed together tightly. He knew that Oberyn Martell's obsession with vengeance would one day get him killed, he had probably desired the deaths of all Lannisters since the day Ser Gregor killed Elia Martell. Now, with his first daughter dying at the hands of his Sworn Shield and his second at the hands of his bride to be, the brother to Prince Oberyn probably viewed him with as much if not greater scorn than he did Tywin Lannister. Even though the deaths of those two could be justified, one a simple casualty of war, and another, a would be assassin of a noble lady. "Prince Oberyn Martell will want revenge for that", he commented, "we should all be alert."

Ser Gilbert nodded. "All those who would enter the castle as a guest are being searched down to their smallclothes unless you wish to order us to proceed differently, My Lord."

Jasper shook his head. "I want no unnecessary harm to come to Arya, or anyone else under my roof."

"I am not a child", Arya complained, "I can look after myself."

Jasper looked her sternly in the eye. "You were lucky Arya, lucky that you have naturally good perception and lucky that Nymeria Sand was not a trained assassin. You are also lucky that assassination is not Prince Oberyn's style. Any other lord would hire a professional that you would not see coming, and they would succeed." Arya bit her lip trying to refrain from saying something. Jasper decided that he would simply pass her, he was tired and it was nearing time for him to turn in to bed. He looked up at the sky, the darkening clouds making it clear that a Stormlands storm was approaching, it would hit them when all was dark.

However, Arya followed him into his chambers. "You presume much Arya", Jasper jested, "I will not lie with you before we are married."

"You weren't married to the Wendwater girl", Arya countered and Jaspers slight smile faded.

He sighed and sat down on the bed. "I never meant it to happen Arya I-" She strode over to him and pressed her fingers to his lips.

"I have just about come to terms with that", she said, "do not speak of it or I may lose them." Jasper nodded and Arya sat down beside him. "I wanted to ask you about my father."

"What about your father?" Jasper asked.

Arya raised her eyebrows. "Why was he killed?" She asked, in a tone that suggested he should have known that, and then he remembered that he _should _have known that.

"I never learned", he said finally.

"What!?" She demanded, "why not?"

"Because", Jasper said, speaking quickly, he did not want Arya getting too angry at him. "When I got there the first time, Tyrion told me he would tell me the truth when we repelled Renly, then I was banished by my brother, then I had to fight the Dornish, then I went to defeat Renly for good, then I get back to King's Landing and discover that Tyrion and the others intend to shame my family name." He sighed, rubbing his eyes, "I forgot Arya, I am sorry."

She looked furious, and she had a right to be. "You promised you would find out", she yelled at him, she turned and made for the door. Jasper rushed over and seized her arm.

"And I will Arya", he declared, "we will be summoned to King's Landing before long anyway, to attend my brother's wedding, when there, we can find out together, and then I will do everything in my power to get you justice."

Arya looked up at him with narrowed eyes that made Jasper glad that Nymeria was not in the room. "You had better", Arya warned him.

"You will be there to make sure that I do", Jasper replied. Arya seemed somewhat satisfied and nodded, so Jasper released her arm and she left, leaving him alone to change for dinner.

Jasper almost cried with relief when, after a meal of pork, he was able to, for the first time in many months sleep in his own bed. He stripped down, took a hot bath in the brass tub that the servants brought in, then got up and got into his soft feather bed. However, his tiredness had worn off him in the bath, so he simply lay awake, thinking. The image of Renly's severed head, which Jasper had ordered retrieved, along with the body, by knights loyal to him, and taken to Storm's End to be buried next to Robert. They had ridden hard ahead, for Jasper had wanted it buried before it rotted, and Jasper had not gone out to see it, he would do it tomorrow. Much of a traitor as Renly was, they shared blood, something Joffrey seemed to have forgotten. He turned so that he was facing the window as the storm's first flashes of lightning lit the sky beyond the shutters which Jasper had ordered closed. The main reason for bringing Renly home to be buried, was out of this respect for shared blood, however it had also been intended as a slight against the Lannisters, Joffrey, Tyrion, all of them. It seemed that of all his family, all he could trust to do the right thing were Stannis, Tommen and Myrcella. He tossed over again. The war had changed everyone who was good into something worse and everyone bad into something worse. Robb was out for vengeance, Tyrion was now cold and calculating and Margaery had become fixated on the Iron Throne. Meanwhile Joffrey continued to thrive in his new power, Ser Gregor Clegane was, no doubt, still murdering children and Ser Meryn now beat the helpless, unimpeded by King Robert. Jasper felt it was useless, what could he do against such things? Maybe he should do what Robb did, declare his independence. Take the Stormlands away from such things, single handedly he could break up the Seven Kingdoms. For with him gone, the Dornish, who had, since his father had been gone, been almost absent from the Seven Kingdoms, would probably follow them. The Iron Islands were already gone once again. The Crownlands would be divided up between the Riverlands, who had fallen under Northern suzerainty, and his lands. The Vale was already absent after Jon Arryn's death, they would be on the brink, and the mutual dislike between the Westerlands and the Reach would prevent them from unifying. Seven Kingdoms once more, Seven Kingdoms, Seven Kings. Even as the traces of the thought drifted into his head, he heard in his head Stannis simply say "_duty."_ He cursed at the same time as a flash of thunder lit up the sky behind the shutters. Jasper threw his covers off, and pulled on tunic and britches, belt and boots, fresh ones, all in black, but with golden stags on them. He wrenched open the doors to his chambers and marched out, along the dark corridors, his footfalls from his boots masked by the wind, rain and thunder. He strode up the steps, taking them two at a time, all the way up to the top of the central tower, he found a guard waiting there, as was customary, to prevent people from going up there. "Open the door", he commanded. The guard looked shocked and confused. "Now!" He nodded and fished out a key to the large iron padlock, opening it, stepping aside.

Jasper felt the power of the wind, the fury of the thunder and the brilliance of the lightning. He felt the force of the rain and heard the crushing sounds of the waves. Yet not once did he lose his footing on the slippery stone of the roof. He could walk around the edge of the tower, leaping from crenelation to crenelation, and he would lose his footing only when he made a miss-step, or slipped on the wetness. But he could defy the gods all he wanted and not once be plucked up by the wind, as though his ancestor Elenei was protecting him as she had her husband Durran Godsgrief, his other descendent. There was a tapestry of Elenei in Storm's End. Given his father's preference for hunting scenes and Renly's of jousting and knighthood, it was one of the lesser known tapestries in the castle. Yet it was one of Jasper's favourites, he had meant to have it restored, but something always got in the way. He closed his eyes, still feeling the rain patter against his face, and pictured the tapestry. Against a sea of dark greys and near blacks; the clothes and hair of Durran himself who was being held by Elenei as she held back the storms of her parents, the god of the sea and the goddess of the wind, Elenei was a shining light, her eyes and hair of turquoise and her skin as pale as a full moon, she was a sign of true beauty in the world. His father had been no true father to him, Stannis had filled that role more than anything, but it was Elenei who was his true mother, beyond the woman who had birthed him, or the god that the fat High Septon preached to; it was her he cried out for when he was scared as a child, none had come for him until he was nine and Beric had been outside his doors, but in those dark times, when he had been scared of his first storm of Storm's End, when he had broken his wrist in training and suffered his first cut, when he was lost in the Rainwood before being found by Ser Davos, he had cried out for her, and he had almost felt her arms around him in the same way that Elenei's were around Durran's in that tapestry. He had had a small carved figure of her made, which he had worn around his neck for many years, until Stannis had told him that it was un-lordly, and that one should never rely on luck, if so they will fall.

Jasper fell to his knees, the chill of the rain not concerning him, although he felt it down to his bones. He wept. He wept for the realm and he wept for his friends, he wept for his siblings, he wept for his family. His sobs and cries of anguish he could barely hear them himself over the sounds of the storm. He had long since grown out of crying out to Elenei, not since he was seven had he truly cried for her out loud, he had called for her on the inside before and after then, but he had not cried out for her in years.

It was then, as he felt his the rain running off his hair and down his tunic, that he felt those arms encircle him again. Soft and warm, but wet as well. The sound of the storm died down as his left ear was covered by Elenei's hand and his other was crushed against her breast. She said nothing, which was odd, for he remembered her saying things to him, in a calm, beautiful, ethereal voice when he was young. He opened his eyes to look up at Elenei. The storm had darkened her hair and greyed her eyes, but her skin was still pale, a braid of it falling down, which was odd as well, the Elenei of his youth had always worn hers long and flowing. When he was five and younger he would grip it tightly in his fist, and she would smile at him.

"It's okay Jasper", she said, in a very familiar voice. But not one that was calm, not one that was nearly as beautiful, and it was not ethereal. He wrenched himself free, pulling himself to his feet as he looked at Elenei, who he now recognised as Arya. Looking at him with a look of fear and pity in her eyes. "Jasper?" Arya asked.

Jasper did not speak, he simply seized Arya, his left hand running around to the small of her back, and his right running through her hair, brought her close and sealed his lips over her own.

_A/N: Okay so the Elenei plotline sort of just ran away with me, did it work, did it not? Review and tell me if you wish. _


	43. ASOS Davos II

_A/N: danceegirl92 – Jasper didn't take Sansa with him because the thought did not occur to him, he was too pissed off with the Lannisters. He thinks they are shaming his family intentionally._

_blazedflame – The Twins were destroyed by Theon and Robb never broke a marriage pact. Do you mean the purple wedding?_

_Lilnudger82 – Not the first kiss, I direct you to reread ACOK Jasper IV, and possibly before as well.7_

It has been said by some that Stannis Baratheon knew the strengths and weaknesses of every single house in the Seven Kingdoms. The validity of this claim could easily be doubted by many, however what could be denied was that Stannis did know the strengths and weaknesses of every vassal under his command. It was for this reason that Davos Seaworth was organising the unloading of troops from the Crownlands at Eastwatch by the Sea and from there, their transportation to Castle Black, where the Wildling horde was supposedly descending on the Wall. The first two waves, both the one that Davos had lead and the one that had arrived before him, he had sent along the southern side of the Wall towards the headquarters of the Night's Watch where they were to support the weakened black brothers in their defence of the Seven Kingdoms. However, Davos had been hearing troubles reports. Reports that Lord Monford, who had commanded the first squadron and now the representative of Stannis at the Wall, was claiming command over the defence of the Wall, but that a bastard boy, Jon Snow, half brother to Robb Stark, the Young Wolf who was currently rebelling against the throne, was claiming that the Watch did not answer to Kings or Lords, and that the command of the defence of the Wall was both their responsibility and what they knew to do best, as such they should command. Thankfully the best hope to resolving the situation was currently approaching Eastwatch, as the _Fury_, Stannis' flagship, came into dock, along with the next squadron, which would contain much heavy horse, soon to be the bane of the Wildlings, at least, Davos hoped so, for they were still outnumbered at Castle Black and, with these divisions rising, there was no telling what was to happen there.

Davos was waiting by the dock at which the _Fury _unloaded the knights of the Crownlands. As had been the case with the foot levies, the men were clearly not happy to be here, not used to the biting cold and unsure of how to proceed against such barbaric foes. Morale was low, Davos himself was sure that, had Stannis not already taken the tips of his fingers, which were currently around his neck, then they would have frozen off before Cotter Pyke, the commander of Eastwatch by the Sea, had gifted him some elk fur gloves to ward off the worst of the cold. Stannis led the knights from disembarking, the horses to be brought off soon afterwards. 'Ser Davos', he said, as he approached, 'what news from Castle Black?'

'No news my lord', Davos replied, as knights and horses poured out of the ships of his squadron as they came into dock. 'We have not heard that it has fallen, nor that it has repelled the enemy'.

Stannis nodded. 'Then we need to ride as soon as possible, where is the commander here?'

Davos turned and pointed to Cotter Pyke's tower and Stannis, not saying another word, marched off to it, no doubt discussing his plan to break the Wildlings in a single stroke.

It turned out to not be so much a battle, as a complete rout. When the final squadron of the Royal Fleet disembarked and the men marched down to Castle Black, with Davos accompanying them, it turned out the battle had been won several days before. Whilst the footmen had been able to hold the Wildlings at bay from the north side of the wall and defeat the raiding parties south of the wall, Stannis had divided his heavy horse into three columns and scythed through the Wildling's unprepared lines like a sickle through wheat, only the giants held their ground temporarily, but it was not enough and those who did not throw down their arms in surrender scattered back to the lands far north of the wall. According to captured men of the Wildling horde, they were scattered under different leaders, one of them, a dour warrior, took thousands north, towards the lands of the Thenns, another scattered them inside the haunting forest, yet more bands were leaderless as they fled north from the southern knights.

Davos had been invited to a meeting with Stannis, the Red Woman, whom he had not seen since she left for Castle Black with the rest of his men of the first wave. Also there was Maester Aemon, the one who had sent the request for help from the Night's Watch that had drawn them here. There were also two boys there, both dark haired, but one was lean and muscular, with a sword at his waist which had a wolf sculpted onto the pommel. The other was large and plump, more the look of a Septon about him than what you would imagine would be a man of the Night's Watch. 'Ser Davos, you are here', Stannis said. 'Good, I would value your input in this matter'.

'What matter is that my lord?' Davos asked, curious.

Stannis indicated the fat boy. 'Tell us again what you saw, leave nothing out'.

The boy timidly stood up. 'We were at the Fist of the First Men', he began, 'we were waiting to hear back from scouting parties about the size and strength of the Wilding horde. It was there we came under attack'.

'The Wildlings attacked you?' Davos asked.

The boy shook his head. 'The dead', he said, 'the dead rose and nought but fire would slow them down'. He gulped, clearly horrified by what he had seen, but unless Davos was much mistaken, he was not so terrified of the dead, but of something else. 'Lord Commander Mormont and a few of us were able to escape, we broke through them and rushed back for the Wall. As we went they kept harassing us, every night, but we made progress. Eventually we made it back to Craster's Keep. When there some of our brothers betrayed us, but I was able to escape with Gilly'.

'Gilly?' Davos asked.

'One of his daughters, and wives', said the swordsman of the Night's Watch, Davos shivered at the foul thought of it, not even the Targaryens wed parent to child.

It took a few seconds, but the fat boy was able to continue his tale. 'When we were nearly at the wall, with her babe in arms, that is when we saw it'.

He gulped, but Lord Stannis was not being patient. 'Saw what?' Stannis pressed, without any regard for the boy's obvious terror.

'A demon', he croaked eventually, 'skin like cracked ice and eyes a bright blue, brighter than saphires, brighter than anything I have ever seen, like the stars, but just as cold'. Davos could not quite believe it, but he knew what the boy was describing. 'White Walkers', he said finally.

'And what happened?' Stannis asked.

The boy held out something black, a dagger, but it looked like a cross between rock and steel. He felt like he had seen it before, but could not quite picture where. 'Frozen fire', the Red Woman said in her strange accent.

'Dragonglass', Stannis muttered, and now Davos remembered where he had seen it, all over Dragonstone. 'What did you do with this dagger?'

'I stabbed it', the fat boy said, and Davos looked him over, he did not seem the kind of person to stab someone else, but there may well have been some truth to it. 'It fell to it's knees, shrieking, then it cracked and shattered into a thousand pieces'.

'And nothing else can kill these demons?' Stannis asked, to which Davos raised his eyebrows. Stannis accepted the tales quickly, he had not known Stannis to make such rash beliefs before, but for the good of the realm, maybe it was a good thing that he did.

'No other solution to this… problem', said the one with the sword, 'has been found as of yet'.

Stannis nodded. 'Then it seems I have come at the right time, I shall leave three thousand footmen here at the wall, under your authority', he said to Maester Aemon, 'followed by the authority of whomever is elected your new Lord Commander. I myself shall return to Dragonstone, for there are matters in the south to deal with. When there I shall organise the mining of Dragonglass to be shipped to the Wall, where you can craft it into weapons of war to use against these demons'.

Maester Aemon nodded. 'What of you my lady', he asked the Red Woman.

The Red Woman smiled. 'First I shall make for Volantis', she said, sending a look at Davos before returning her gaze to the half blind maester. 'I shall contact the Red Temple there and beseech them to spread the word. Death marches on the Wall, and aid must be sent'.

'Thank you, Lord Stannis', Maester Aemon said, a sentiment seemingly supported by the other black brothers.

However, the one with the sword had another question. 'We will have to ask that no southern lords remain at the Wall'. Stannis arched an eyebrow and he continued. 'You will be leaving far more soldiers than me and my brothers, if you leave a lord here, he will claim lordship. At the very least, whoever remains behind in command must understand that, here on the Wall, we are in command'.

Stannis nodded once more, 'very well then Snow, I shall see to it'. Stannis turned to Davos. 'Ser Davos, take the Lady Melisandre back to Eastwatch. From there you shall go to Volantis, and then return to meet up with the Royal Fleet at Dragonstone'.

Davos nodded and stood aside for the Red Woman to leave before him. Just as he was about to leave, Stannis seized his arm. 'She must get to Volantis Ser Davos', he said seriously, more seriously than Stannis usually was. 'The word must be spread, and Volantis is near the heart of the Lord of Light, they will come'.

'Do you think the King will stand for a Volantene force landing at the Wall', Davos asked. Surely the boy king, if he was as mad as Stannis had said, it would not go down well. 'He might use it as an excuse for war'.

'The Lady Melisandre will not bring hosts', Stannis replied, 'she will bring priests'.


	44. ASOS Jasper IV

_A/N: Everybody's Changing – There are meant to be things that Jasper does that piss people off, there may well be more of them to come. As for Arya, she still has some major plot lines to complete later on, so she is not done yet._

Jasper looked at the crude and ugly River Gate of King's Landing as he crossed the Blackwater Rush in _Winter's Fury_, he already missed Storm's End, and he ran his thumb over the figure of Elenei that he had retrieved from his old chambers. It was still immaculate and easily detailed, he just needed to wipe the dust from it before he put the leather cord that attached it around his neck. Arya had thought him a little crazy when he had fished out the old good luck charm he had, but when he had explained it, she seemed to understand at least. More important to Jasper, she was not angry about him almost stealing her maidenhead atop Storm's End. He had been able to refrain from that, still, it would be quite a place to make love to someone, maybe once they were married. It seemed the only one on the boat who did not miss Storm's End was Nymeria, who was bouncing around happily as she got out of the place she had been stuck in for too long. Arya seemed to think that it had something to do with Lady being in the city and the littermates bonding again, but he did not know, it seemed peculiar, but then the direwolves were different to other beasts, more intelligent and more human, more human than some humans Jasper could name as they came into dock.

Jasper was glad that there was no one present to see him disembark, for he did not feel like having a greeting when he was coming to attend a royal wedding, that of his _dear _brother Joffrey to the traitor Margaery Tyrell. The fingers of his left hand flexed and brushed across the pommel of High Justice, strapped to his waist, at the thought of the treasonous union. No matter what Margaery said, he was certain that she had tried to conceive a child with Renly, no matter how little he wanted to. His household staff, including the guardsmen he had brought with him, were to take the possessions up to his chambers in the Red Keep. According to a letter sent by Tywin, he had the same ones he had had growing up. In the meantime, Jasper and his Storm Knights, he refused to call the Stormguard any longer since that sounded too much like the Kingsguard, and he would not have these skilled fighters associated with the godless wastes of flesh currently wearing the White Cloaks, apart from Ser Arys, who was actually worth something in terms of both skill with a blade and temperament, were making their way towards the smithy of Tobho Mott, with Arya and Nymeria at his side as well. He was to fulfil a promise that he had made to Arya, especially since she had reached a height that most people seemed to think was as tall as she would get.

The blacksmith was there and welcomed Jasper. "Prince Jasper", he said jovially, bowing. It was Tobho who had forged Jasper's armour, adding the black tints to the steel. "It is good to see you again."

"And you also Tobho", Jasper replied, not smiling back, he caught sight of the bastard boy who was Tobho Mott's apprentice blacksmith. "I have a job for you today", he said and he beckoned Arya forward. "Arya here needs a suit of armour, but it needs to be much easier to move in than most armours."

Tobho nodded solemnly. "I shall have my apprentice take her measurements, Gendry!" He called and the boy nodded, taking Arya to the side and beginning to measure her. "Would you like any additions the armour my prince?" He asked.

Before Jasper could reply, Arya called out, "I want a direwolf helm."

Tobho looked at Jasper, who nodded. Tobho jotted down the addition and then turned to Jasper, still smiling. "Is there anything else my prince?"

Jasper shook his head. "No thank you Tobho", he replied.

"Then, may I show you something I have been working on?" Jasper, seeing that Arya was not measured, nodded and Tobho took him into the back of the shop, where Jasper knew from experience, Tobho did his experimenting. There, Jasper caught sight of something strange, it looked to be an armoured choker, but far too large for any man, and as far as he was aware, no giants had come to King's Landing.

Then he caught sight of the piece of armour next to it, which what looked like a metal caparison. Jasper realised what Tobho Mott was attempting. "You are not trying to armour a horse are you?!" He asked, incredulous at the very thought.

The skilled armourer smiled and nodded. "At the Golden Tooth, Northmen were able to repel Lord Tywin with pikes on the ground, horses are just as much a target as the rider now, I aim to eliminate that. Also", he added, picking up a spike and placing it on the front a helmet for the horse. "It gives another weapon to a knight."

"What _knight_, could afford this", Jasper asked incredulous, "it would surely beggar the Lannisters."

"It is much more expensive than armour for humans", Tobho confessed, "but less than you put it, in fact." He looked around. "If you were to allow me to test the matter on your horse, my prince, I would be happy to provide you one at a much discounted price."

"Provided that I tell everyone where I got it", Jasper finished, a tiny smile finding its way onto Jasper's lips. He thought of the benefits, what better way to terrify the foot soldiers of a host than to have an armoured horse descending upon them. "Very well", he said, "I shall have my destrier sent over tonight, but be warned Tobho", he said holding up a finger, "I will demand compensation, should you damage him in any way."

"I shall treat him like Myrish silk", Tobho replied.

It was at that point that Gendry came through to the back. "Measurements are taken Master Mott", he said.

Suddenly all business-like again, Tobho nodded firmly, "I shall send word to you when the girl's armour is prepared." Jasper nodded and swept from the shop, his golden cloak billowing behind him as he made his way to the Red Keep.

Maybe it was because Jasper was particularly angry with them at the moment, or maybe because it was true, but there certainly seemed to be a lot of Tyrells around, there were many more noble women, but most of them appeared to be Tyrells, seemingly part of the gardens themselves with all their golden roses on green backgrounds. But then Jasper caught sight of someone he had not seen in years, Joy Hill, his younger than him aunt, bastard daughter of Tywin's brother. She was a sweet girl, older than Arya, but he had noticed that, ever since her father Tygett had vanished, she had rarely smiled. He was about to go and talk to her, but then Tyrion appeared, seemingly from no-where and did just that. Jasper still could not stand his uncle for kowtowing to the wills of traitors, and so he stormed from the gardens, making his way towards the top of the Red Keep, where only Beric and Devan knew where to find him. He sat down once more, looking out over the Blackwater bay and cursing what was going on, it was not right, it should not be happening, but it was.

"You really can't stand them can you?" Jasper did not turn at the sound of Beric. "You cannot blame them, they are doing what they feel is best."

"Best for them", Jasper shot back, tossing another rock of the edge, "not best for the kingdoms."

"You don't know that", Beric replied, "the Tyrells are still very powerful and control much of the food in the Kingdoms."

"That does not mean we should reward their treason, they still get what they have wanted this whole time, Margaery as queen."

"If you were king you would marry Arya", Beric pointed out.

"If I were king a lot of things that have happened would not have happened, and there would still be peace."

"Lord Eddard did try to take the throne", Beric pointed out.

"I still do not believe that", Jasper swore, "I will never believe that, he was forced into that confession by my mother."

Beric sat down next to him, "well maybe now that you are here, and there is no risk of siege of the city with Lord Adrien's host this close and the Northerners retreating to deal with Tyrell incursions into the North, you can investigate properly."

Jasper snorted, "what is the point, it will have been covered up by now."

"Now that is not the Jasper I have been the shield for these last ten years", Beric said.

"No", Jasper replied, "it is not, I am something different now."

They sat in silence, Jasper remembered that he Beric and Devan had used to do this, just sit and look out, no one else there so they could trust each other not to push them off the edge. "Oh yes", Beric said, as though he had remembered something out of the blue. "I saw Alla earlier", Jasper raised an eyebrow at him, silently asking if it should concern him, he and Alla had a dalliance, nothing more. "she wishes to see you."

"Does she now", Jasper replied, "what if I don't want to see her?"

"You do", Beric replied, 'she should be in the godswood, not many go there with the gardens around, you should go and see her."

"Why?" Jasper asked, curious as to why Beric was being so insistent on him seeing someone he had last seen, and fucked, almost two years ago now.

"You'll see", Beric said, half smiling. He got up and left, calling over his shoulder as he did so, "you will regret it if you don'tt see her Jasper, trust me."

Jasper sighed and decided that he may as well go and see Alla, and then have words with Beric if it was pointless to him.

He made his way down the Red Keep, avoiding the commonly used corridors, for he did not feel like talking right now, instead following lesser known corridors to get to the Godswood where, sure enough, there were very few people in the godswood, although, to his distaste, most were Tyrells, but Joy was also here, he saw, a single guard with her, and looking alone. Jasper decided he would speak with her just as soon as he had dealt with Alla and discussed whatever it was she wanted to discuss.

He spotted her brown hair from behind, where she was with two other Tyrell women, sitting on a bench and looking ahead. "Alla", Jasper called as he made his way around to them, looking at Alla who was in the middle, who looked around swiftly, even as the other two did not.

"Jasper!" She gasped, before getting up and hugging him, tightly and unseemly for a noble girl. "You came."

"You called", he answered, "now what is so important that-" Jasper paused, for there was a gurgling sound to the left, and he looked over there to see a baby, not two years old, sitting in the grass in Tyrell colours, looking curious. Alla walked over to the babe and picked it up, holding it in her arms. It was obvious that it was Alla's child, since she was looking at it with such affection. But then Jasper saw the tuft of black hair on its head, and the dark blue of the eyes when the child opened them. Alla's hair was brown, and her eyes were golden. His breath quickened. _No, _he thought, _it can't be_. But what Margaery had said in the tent when he was returning to the capital came back to haunt him. _"Bedding you would be worth your brother's scorn, even if it makes you more like your father"_¸ and then she had said, "_everyone knows what you did_."

"Jasper", Alla said, looking from the babe's face to his eyes, "meet Cassanna Flowers, your daughter."

_Daughter_. The one word was all that was in Jasper's head, he could not tell you what his face was doing if his life depended on it. All three of the women could pull out knives at this very moment, and he would fail to react. _Daughter._ There were a number of questions he knew he wanted to ask but he could not work out what they were, no matter how hard he thought, he could not get the word daughter out of his head with any ease. Whenever he did, it was replaced by _bastard_, and when he finally got past _bastard_, he reached _father_. "Also", Alla said, passing off Cassanna to one of the other Tyrells, and taking another child from the third, 'this is Cassanna's twin, your son, Arthur.

Jasper tried to understand, he truly did, he held out his hand to stay her, allow him time to think and he rested his hands on his knees. But he could not, so he simply said, "no."

"Yes", Alla said, coming up to him with Arthur who, like Cassanna, had his hair, but he had her eyes, round, and bright gold. 'they're yours, both of them." When she pushed Arthur into his chest, the old instincts of holding Shireen, or Tommen and Myrcella when they were children, made his arms rise up and grip the child tightly, resting him in his arms, as the boy looked at him with wide eyes.

As Arthur examined him curiously, all words bar one were driven from Jasper's head.

And that word was _mine_.


	45. ASOS Arya III

_A/N: Okay, with Jasper now knowing he has bastards, it is now time to see how Arya would react to them. _

_Also, to all those asking about the moon tea, he has been with two women, he gave the moon tea to Raeven Wendwater, not Alla, clearly, so he has acknowledged that they are his, but he has not "claimed" them or taken them under his own guardianship. _

_And, as a further note, he has been with two women, just the two, he is still a long way off being his father. _

_Thanks to those who pointed out the mistake about Joy Hill's father, it was Gerion Lannister, not Tygett. I was wrong, I confess. Please don't kill me._

_And if you want to post abuse to Jasper in a review, please feel free to do so, it will help me know if I am he is getting the desired effect._

Bastards, the word was circling the Red Keep like the bloody flux through an armed camp, wherever Arya was, almost all anyone spoke of were the bastards born to the Black Prince, fathered upon a Tyrell girl he had fucked during one of his trips to Highgarden. Those rumours also stated that he had others, they said that he had bastards in the Twins and even one in Winterfell, when he had fucked a servant after breaking Joffrey's nose. Of course Arya knew that wasn't true, for he had left Winterfell shortly afterwards. Although, more than any of these rumours, there were the rumours that he had one from an old lover called Raeven Wendwater, or that he had one by a camp follower from his campaigns. These rumours all coincided with the fact that Jasper was hardly ever anywhere to be found, not even at meals it seemed he had almost vanished from the Red Keep. Only the fact that Beric, the Storm Knights and Devan were still there told Arya he had not left. He had not spoken to either Tommen or Myrcella, the latter of which seemed shocked at Jasper for having the bastards, the former didn't know what was happening; both were upset that they seemed to have lost their brother. Arya searched high and low, Nymeria not with her due to being tied up, under orders from Joffrey.

Speaking of the King, Joffrey seemed to be at the same time overjoyed and furious at the development, it meant he could torture Jasper with the information but at the same time, people, at least nobles, seemed to be more interested in the bastards of the Black Prince, or the Black Bastards as they were called, than his encroaching wedding.

Arya herself was unsure how to feel about them, after all she was to marry Jasper, but did she still want to if he would have children with other women, he was not meant to do that. She remembered how her mother looked at Jon, would she look at them that way? Would she do what Jasper's mother would and see them dead? She did not know, but she had, as of yet, been unable to find Jasper to discuss the matter with him. She also stopped looking when her suit or armour arrived, Devan had helped her into it, and she loved it, in the training yard many guards shrank back at the sight of her direwolf helm, which was more terrifying than either The Hound's dogs head helm or Jaime Lannister's lion helm. Somehow, Arya had no idea how, but the smith had tinted the metal, making it seem to be the colour of actual fur, it made it much more frightening, some had even thought that she had been a real direwolf, standing on its hind legs, when they had first caught sight of her. Afterwards, she demanded to know where Jasper was from his squire, and, after some pressure, he took her to him.

He was up near the top of the Red Keep, in a place she had never known before, he was sitting on the edge of the building, one leg resting on the stone, the other hanging off the edge, swinging aimlessly "Jasper!" She called and he turned to her, his face, newly clean shaven, yet darker than she had ever seen it, and she had not failed to notice that he had been getting darker ever since he had last returned to the capital, the day he went to the top of the tower in the night and, when she had seen him crying and comforted him, he had kissed her with a passion that she had not expected from him. It had left her with a burning sensation inside her, she had just wanted to have him hold her tightly, kiss her ferociously and then make love to her like a husband would to a wife. But he did not, and now, she was not sure whether she wanted that.

"Arya", he replied, surprised and, it seemed, a little angry that she was here, based on his expression, "what do you want?" His voice was completely empty of any kind of emotion, despite the look on his face.

"To talk", she retorted, "is that so wrong?"

"No", he replied, and he led her to a deserted balcony. "So", he said, when they got there, sounding much lighter hearted than before, although she was unsure if that was a face he was putting on or genuine, "what did you wish to talk about?"

"You", she said emphatically, "ever since the business with the bastards, you have been different."

"No I haven't", he replied, "I have been exactly the same man as I was before, all that has changed is how everyone else views me." His lip curled in disgust, "hopefully it will all die down by the time the wedding comes."

Arya nodded, "with luck, I would hope." She looked out over where Jasper's perch allowed him to see, looking out over Blackwater bay. "When we are married", Arya began, "will you have more?"

"No", Jasper replied at once, "bear in mind Arya that these bastards were conceived before we were betrothed to each other, had we been I never would have done so."

"I know, and I believe you", she said quickly. "Believe me Jasper, I do."

"Good", he said. There was a long pause where neither of them said anything, all Jasper did was rub his thumb over the carved figure around his neck. "You do have your dress don't you?" Jasper asked her suddenly. Arya nodded, not wanting to speak, it had not been long enough since she had worn a dress and she was not looking forward to it.

The silence that followed was palpable, so Arya left, leaving Jasper alone with his fury, hoping it would die down.

Later, whilst she was in the godswood, she was approached by Beric, who sat down with his back leaning against the heart tree, looking at her. She raised her eyebrows at him, so he asked what he was obviously here to ask. "What do the bastards mean to you, Arya?"

Arya was surprised at the abruptness of the question. "I do not know?" She replied. 'should they mean something to me?"

It was the turn of Beric's eyebrows to shoot up into his brown hair. "The man you are to wed had children by another", he said, "to most women, that would mean quite a bit?"

"Before we were betrothed though", Arya pointed out to Beric as Jasper had pointed out to her. "I have heard more men have bastards than would like to admit them."

Beric nodded, conceding the point. "You know why the Tyrells brought them here don't you?" Beric said, and Arya shook her head in reply. She had not thought about that, she probably just assumed that they came with their mother. "They are a weapon", Beric explained, "and it works in more ways than one, they could not defeat Jasper on the battlefield, so they discredit him here, his father was called the Whoremonger King more often than is proper, it would not do well for Jasper to be remembered as such."

"And the other ways?" Arya asked, the first made sense, she had embarrassed Sansa many times when Sansa had proved better than her in their lessons.

"One other way", Beric replied, looking around to make sure no one was listening. "they are a leash, Jasper would never march against the Reach knowing that they held his blood, it would put them at risk and he would not have that on his conscience. He would never have harm caused to an innocent child of his on his account. If indeed they are his."

Arya raised her eyebrows. "Who's else could they be?"

"Renly crowned himself more than a year ago", Beric explained. "It is not impossible that the children are his by Margaery, but they are passing them off as Jaspers in order to claim Margaery is still a maiden."

She had not thought of that, but it was besides the point, there was no way to prove they were Renly's children, and Jasper had acknowledged that they were his, even if he had not claimed responsibility over them. "Why are you telling me this?" Arya asked, Beric did not seem to have a point to what he was saying, he was surely not just telling her this, he probably wanted to do something, but she did not know what Jasper's shield was planning.

"You are to be Jasper's wife, you will need to do some of the things that he will not."

Arya once more raised her eyebrows, "and they are?"

Beric looked around once more, and then up at the dying sun. "We need to get those children away from the Tyrells and into our care, do that, and the Tyrells lose their weapon." Beric looked around. "When I was here last I did some private digging, I still had some friends in the Gold Cloaks. It seemed that your father was named protector of the Realm, but Cersei refused to honour it. Renly made the suggestion that Lord Eddard take the Royal Children into his custody, however he refused and that sealed his fate, the queen was able to reinforce her position.

Arya's face darkened, her hands balled into fists. 'so the queen cause my father's death?" She asked.

Beric shook his head, "I do not think so, I was never able to discover any more than Jasper on that account, but when Margaery becomes queen in her own right it will be impossible for us to act against her house. We must take the bastards and we must do it now.

Arya looked around, "and how do we do that?" Using children was a despicable tactic to Arya, she would not stand by and let the Tyrells do it to Jasper. If her father hesitating helped his death come along, then Arya would act.

"I have spoken to the Storm Knights", Beric said, quietly and quickly. "They agree with me, we must move now, and take the children in the dark hours tonight. I have also brought Joy Hill into the fold, she was always kind to Jasper, and he was kind to her, she has agreed to help look after the children in return for Jasper bringing her to Storm's End with him." He looked around to check once more, before he continued. "Devan and some Lannister men, as well as many others will be having dinner tonight, a dinner you and I will be too ill to attend", he told her quietly, "they will provide Jasper with an alibi for our attack."

"Why does he need an alibi?" Arya asked.

"There will almost certainly be deaths", Beric replied, "Tyrell guardsmen will fall and when the castle wakes tomorrow, Jasper will have his bastards in his own care, people will point the finger at him, Devan and the others will prevent that."

Arya nodded in understanding. "I shall get Nymeria."

"No", Beric replied quickly. "We will be fully armoured in the attack and bear no sigil", he explained, "people cannot know that it is us under the armour. If they know it is us, then we can be thrown in the dungeons or executed on the spot with cause, Nymeria will tell them that it was either you or your sister, giving the queen reason to kill the direwolves and imprison you both. The only person who will not be covered is Joy."

"Joy?" Arya asked, "is she coming with us?"

Beric nodded, "at this moment it is known that the Lannisters and Jasper are on bad terms, if someone catches sight of her blonde hair it will shift suspicion away from Jasper and onto them, far better that they are at each other's throats than us and the Tyrells once more."

Arya paused as she took it in and then nodded when she understood. "Then I shall leave Needle behind as well." Beric nodded. "And my Direwolf helm, I shall simply wear a mask."

"A good suggestion", Beric replied, "but whatever you do, make sure you do not get cut, if you do then a survivor might be able to identify it."

Arya nodded and pushed off the wall. "When do we go?"

Beric looked up into the sky. "We should go and get ready now."

Later, as the sun was just about to set, Arya found herself, armour and mask on, and with the six Storm Knights, Loren Jast, Rolland Storm, Balon Swann, Guyard Morrigen, Robar Royce, a new addition having proved himself in battle against Renly, and Beric, all armoured, all unadorned, all with their swords out, apart from Ser Balon, who instead wielded a Morningstar. Joy was with them, a girl slightly older than Jasper, in dark clothes and with a knife at her belt just in case, she and Arya would be carrying the children out whilst the knights fought the Tyrell guards. Beric looked at them all. "Ready", he asked, and the all nodded, Arya drawing her shortsword and holding it tightly. It felt strange not having Needle in one hand, but she would endure it. "Go!" He said, in a loud whisper as darkness fell and the only light came from the flaming torches.

They rushed around the corner, knowing that they would have to move quickly in order to get the bastards and then leave before they were overwhelmed by the guards. The first guard that they came across was easily despatched, with Ser Guyard punching him in the gut, winding him, before slitting his throat with a dagger. They had all agreed that honour mattered little here, what mattered were Jasper's children. Beric plunged his longsword into the chest of the next guard and Arya slashed at the next guard's leg and then, as he was falling but before he could cry out, she opened his throat from ear to ear. She plunged her sword into his chest to be sure. They continued to move along, Ser Rolland leading the way, for he knew where Alla Tyrell's chambers were. Outside it were two guards, unfortunately they caught sight of them before they could be killed, so Balon and Rolland rushed over to them and quickly defeated them, Ser Rolland stabbing his guard in the throat and Ser Balon swinging his Morningstar so that it caved in both helmet and head of the guard. Next, as Ser Loren kept a careful watch with Ser Balon, for in the last fight there had been clashes of steel on steel and they had to move fast lest someone wake up. Ser Rolland burst through the door, swiftly followed by Beric, Guyard and Robar.

Alla sat up in bed at the noise and Rolland rushed over, forcing her down and covering her mouth, he held it tightly until she passed out. At the same time, Arya and Joy, who was coping very well with the blood and death, probably because it was dark and hard to see it, rushed over to the babies, who they knew slept in the same room as their mother, and took one each, Arya took the girl Cassanna and Joy took the boy Arthur, after wrapping her in her blankets and sheathing her sword, and Robar took Arthur. They then rushed from the room. They had to then run from the area as the babes started to cry in the arms of strangers, but they were able to make it back to the wing of the Red Keep given over to Jasper and the Stormlanders.

It was done, the bastards were now in their custody.


	46. ASOS Tyrion III

Tyrion sighed. In his capacity as Master of Coin it should not fall to him to have to help the mediations between Jasper and the Tyrells. His father, it could be said, was right to be there although he clearly thought that there were more important things to worry about than where a couple of bastards happened to be. But clearly, if his father was to suffer then Tyrion was to suffer with him. It had all happened so fast, they had woken up, everything appearing to be normal, and then shrieks and cries of anger came from the Tyrells, several of their guards were dead and Jasper's bastards were gone. According to Alla, they had been taken by seven people, all armoured, and all unmarked, so there was no way to guarantee who held the loyalty of these unmarked men. The Tyrell men had searched the castle for them and, when they had gone to Jasper for help, they found him in the godswood, with the bastards. Swords had nearly been drawn, and had the children not been there, they probably would have been. The fact was that Jasper claimed that his Storm Knights, whom he had assigned to look over them in secret, were able to get the children back, and he said that the Tyrells had proven themselves incapable of looking after his children, so he would do so himself. Tyrion knew that he was lying, he could just tell, but there was no proof, and that was something that terrified and impressed Tyrion in equal measure. Jasper, a Lord, was able to send knights, probably the Storm Knights themselves, into Tyrell quarters in the Red Keep, the seat of the King, and take what he wanted, and no one could lift a finger to stop him. He could also not help but wonder how different things would have been had Ned Stark done just that at the beginning of the war.

Currently, Tyrion and his father, trying to defuse the situation, had called a meeting to discuss the matter, and Garlan Tyrell, with Margaery and Lord Tarly, were sitting opposite Jasper, his sworn shield and his bride to be. "Children should have a mother", Garlan said and Tyrion felt his heart tighten, "give the bastards to us and-"

Jasper stood up and slammed his scabbarded sword on the table, slightly drawing the blade. "They are my _children_", he almost snarled. "Call them bastards like they mean nothing once more Garlan and you will die, just as your brother did." Garlan stood up as well, his hand drifting to his own sword at the insult.

"Sit down", Tywin declared and Jasper, sheathing the sword fully, slumped back down into his chair. Ser Garlan following suit shortly afterwards.

"I will not let my children be held by those who cannot guarantee their safety", he said with finality. "Send Alla to me if you must but I shall not part from them". This was the main reason why Tyrion, and he suspected his father, did not want to be doing this. He knew Jasper, he knew that if Jasper did not want to part from his children, then he would not.

"Our men died", Lord Tarly pointed out.

"For which I am most deeply sorry", Jasper interrupted. "No doubt they were good people, but it is none of my concern".

"Unless you killed them", Garlan pointed out.

Jasper sighed, "I was with several people at the time of the attack", Jasper started, again.

"We are fully aware of the details of this", Tywin said. "We do not need to discuss it again".

There was silence for a short while, then Jasper asked, "how many guards were killed?"

"Five", Margaery said.

Jasper then went for his belt, fishing out a money pouch and handing over five gold dragons, "one for each of the families", he said solemnly, "the rest", he pushed the money bag over to the Tyrells, "is for you".

"So you confess", Lord Tarly said victoriously.

"No, I sympathise", Jasper said, getting to his feet. "This is getting no-where, I do not know who killed your men, but you have my sympathy, and my oath that I had nothing to do with it". Jasper turned and walked out of the chamber, Arya Stark and Beric following him closely. He called back just as he left the chamber, "I have to prepare for the wedding tomorrow, do you not have to do the same?"

"Well, that concludes this", Tyrion said, getting to his own feet, taking himself out of the chamber.

Tywin also seemed relieved to Tyrion, and he had a good idea why. It seemed that the Royal Wedding was the only bright spot in a sea of darkness, for the Ironborn had, just as they had at Oldtown, gutted the city of Lannisport, capturing what remained of the Lannister fleet, or at least, those they did not sink or burn in the harbour. The Iron King had led the assault on the city personally, and then, when that was done, he had unleashed his nephew Theon upon the coast of the Westerlands, after the boy had already overrun Fair Isle. Meanwhile, Yara Greyjoy was harrying what remained of the Redwyne Fleet and increasing the Ironborn hold on the western and southern parts of the Reach, re-occupying Oldtown again whilst the hosts of the Reach were fighting Robb Stark.

Stannis Baratheon, as Master of Ships, would sail against the Ironborn following Joffrey's wedding, for he would only have returned from the Wall the day following the historic event. Tyrion long suspected that Cersei had arranged it so that Robert's brother would not be present, that it would be a day of victory for House Lannister.

"Kevan shall throw the Ironborn from the Westerlands in short order", Tywin told the small council at the meeting, "of far greater concern is Robb Stark, have the Tyrell hosts attacked him yet?"

"Once my lord", Varys replied, "But Robb Stark was able to defeat their vanguard at Raventree Hall, before ambushing a greater portion of their host near Pinkmaiden, they suffered limited casualties in terms of numbers, but more than twenty highborn hostages were rendered unto the Starks".

Tyrion sighed, he was starting to wonder whether there was anyone on Westeros who was capable of stopping the Stark boy. Tywin nodded, contemplating the matter. "Inform Lord Tarly that, once the wedding is over, he is to ride and assume command of the host, he defeated Robert Baratheon at Ashford, let him do the same to the Stark boy". Tyrion and the rest of the council agreed with the statement. Then if Tarly failed it would fall to either Jasper or Stannis to defeat him. "Any other news?"

"Whispers still come from the east, my lord", Varys continued. "Apparently, Daenerys Targaryen has brought death to the city of Astapor, she purchased the Unsullied and then turned them on their former masters, freeing all the slaves and she now marches on Yuunkai".

"Good", Tyrion replied, and everyone else around the table looked at him. "From Volantis to Qarth, that part of the world needs the slave trade to prosper economically. If she is going against it, then they shall act against her, defeat her before she can turn her gaze to us".

Tywin nodded. He may not like Tyrion, but it seemed that he could agree with that statement at least.

There was nothing else to discuss, so Tyrion went to bed that evening wondering what would happen the next day, at Joffrey's wedding.

The ceremony in the sept was as magnificent as one could expect from a royal wedding, although Tyrion thought it was a bit much. But clearly he did not have views as strong as Jasper or his betrothed, both of whom looked mutinous when Joffrey kissed Margaery on the lips. However he could not fail to notice that the younger Stark seemed to have found a beauty of her own, with her dress in black and grey and a low neckline exposing a necklace of sapphires. Jasper was in his best, the only difference to his usual formal wear being a small carved figure of a woman around his neck. He remembered it from Jasper's youth, but thought the boy had cast it aside many years before.

Then they went to the feast, which was the part that Tyrion was most looking forward to. There were a very pious, and very expensive, seventy seven courses, each one accompanied by a round of entertainment, from jugglers to singers from the Reach all the way to fire masters from Asshai. Tyrion spent much of the time when he was feasting talking to others, but he returned to his seat, beside Jasper on his left and Sansa on his right, to observe Joffrey being presented with his gifts from all the lords and nobles present. Tyrion had gifted him a book, which, surprisingly, Joffrey accepted without question. Tywin granted him a great lion pelt cloak, heavy and strong, with a hood made from the lion's mouth that could be pulled over his head. Jasper and Arya had gifted the pair with wedding chalices, made of brilliant silver crystal that shone like they had the light of the moon in them. One had a stag embossed upon it, the other a rose. Again, Joffrey was far more civil than others would have guessed. At least at first.

"As it is my wedding, you should allow me use of your sword", Joffrey said, indicating High Justice which, despite the formality, Jasper kept at his waist. A hush fell upon the high table as Jasper looked down to his Valyrian Steel blade.

"This is, as you say, a wedding brother", Jasper pointed out, "what use have you for a sword?"

"Let me have the sword", Joffrey repeated.

"No", Jasper replied flatly, "you have your gift from me, I hope you enjoy it, now I am sure there are others who wish to wish you well". Jasper re-took his seat and, as other lords came up to bestow gifts upon Joffrey and Margaery, but Joffrey shot dark looks at his brother, who did not respond.

"Did you have to bring that thing?" Tyrion asked in a hiss.

"I am in King's Landing", Jasper replied, and Tyrion could not help but agree.

Several courses later, and Jasper was clearly, based on the way he was shifting in his chair, in need of using the privy. After Joffrey had cut the pie, Tyrion said to him, "Just go Jasper, I can't bear your fidgetting". Jasper nodded, got up and walked around and in front of the table on his way to the privy. But Joffrey, it seemed, was not yet ready to let his go so easily.

"Brother", he called, making Jasper turn slowly on his heels. "Do pass me my wine". Jasper raised an eyebrow. The wine was several feet closer to Joffrey than Jasper, so he was quite right in doing so, in Tyrion's mind. "Now", Joffrey continued, but Jasper just stared at Joffrey, unblinking. The tension was mounting and Tyrion, eager to end it, and let Jasper go before he embarrassed himself, walked around the table, seized Joffrey's wine from Jasper's gift chalice, and pressed it into Joffrey's palm.

The coughing began as Tyrion made his way back to his place at the table. First he ignored it, but then it did not stop and all eyes fell upon the king, even Jasper turned back to look in slight concern at his brother. Hell broke loose when Joffrey collapsed, clawing at his throat and turning blue in the face. "Joffrey!" Jasper yelled, rushing to Joffrey's side, trying to turn him over. Others rushed forwards, the Kingsguard however, remained noticeably still, unsure about what to do. Tyrion could see that Jasper was wrenchin on Joffrey's stomach, whilst his sworn shield Beric Storm was shoving his finger's down Joffrey's throat, both trying to get him to vomit and remove the blockage in the King's throat. At that point Cersei made her way to her son, rushing over and forcing Beric from him, sending the knight sprawling with surprising strength. As the king gave his last few chokes of life, Tyrion caught sight of Jasper's face. And the look of horror on it as he looked at Tyrion, who looked back to the wedding chalice.

He then heard his sister's distraught voice as powerful arms seized him. "He did this! Take him!"


	47. ASOS The Rose of Highgarden

Margaery was sitting in her usual place in the gardens of the Red Keep with her grandmother. This was where they talked without interference from the outside world, for any intruder would have to get past the many Tyrell cousins and guards stationed in and around the gardens before they reached her, and her grandmother had made sure that they always kept guard here, to make sure no spy made it to the shrubbery during the night to listen in on their conversations in the morning. She was dressed in her black dress with flowers on it, although she could not awfully say that she missed Joffrey, he was still her husband, at least for a short while. Although she wondered whether that made her a queen or not. Best to ask her grandmother. "So am I the queen?"

Her grandmother looked typically shrewd in her mourning clothes. "Cersei still calls herself such despite the death of her husband, one of the many differences between you is that she had children. You are more of a queen than you were with Renly, or would be had he given you a child, less than you would have been had Joffrey done the courtesy of consummating the marriage before choking."

"You believe he choked?" Margaery asked surprised. "the way he was clawing at his own throat, and how he could not be saved, it seemed more like poison to me."

"Cersei seemingly thinks so", her grandmother replied, nodding as she took a drink. "But if so it was a very brazen act, we shall have to wait until he is examined to discover the truth."

"It was horrible."

"Of course it was", her grandmother scoffed, "the world is full of horrible things, death is one of many, if you are to be queen one day, you shall have to deal with a lot of death Margaery, steel yourself girl."

Margaery nodded, playing with her necklace. "My first husband preferred the company of men and was executed. The second is the one who ordered the execution and was poisoned at my wedding feast. Maybe I will marry the one killed him and I will become the subject of a ballad. The woman who got men to kill each other for her hand."

"More like for her father's food", her grandmother scoffed again. "Such ballads are more for the courtesans of Braavos than you Margaery."

Margaery smiled a little, "whoever the songs are best suited for, it seems that I have been cursed."

"Nonsense", her grandmother said, waving away the comment. "If half of what Renly, Jasper and the others have all said about Joffrey, then your circumstances have improved markedly."

Margery did not see it that way, "but I would have been the queen!"

"Winter is coming, as the Starks say", her grandmother said, "much better words than our own", Margaery allowed herself a small laugh, next to words like Ours is the Fury and Winter is Coming, Growing Strong did seem feeble. "Our food will be needed and, given the rumours of the Targaryen in the east, it would be better for them to bind us to the crown than to leave us free to join them."

Margaery raised an eyebrow. "You think that they think that far ahead?"

"I know that Lord Tywin will be, and he is the one who makes the decisions." She took a swig of her glass and looked at Margaery, clearly contemplating something. "You did wonderful work on Joffrey", she said, "given your history, the next one should be easier."

Margaery raised an eyebrow again. "Jasper is promised to the Stark girl."

"Easily set aside, her brother is still a traitor and we have far more to offer than the cold frigid North."

"I don"t know", Margaery replied, taking up a drink of her own, "they seem to be able to offer an undefeated battle commander."

"Lord Tarly should change that", her grandmother said. "Now best you go and start bonding with the new king."

"And how do I do that?"

"His bastards", she replied at once. "I knew it was a mistake bringing them here, now he has them after all."

"You think he did take them?" Margaery asked, although in truth she saw no other opportunity.

It was her grandmother"s turn to raise her eyebrows. "I thought I had taught you better than that Margaery", she tutted, "is Jasper the kind of person to take a child away from it"s mother like that?"

Margaery shook her head. "No, he is not."

"Precisely", her grandmother replied, "no he did not do this. But that sworn shield of his, he is more loyal than anyone I have ever met, he could see the threat represented by us holding the bastards, I suspect it was him and the Storm Knights who acted, but I suspect they did so without informing their master."

Margaery nodded, that did seem more reasonable than Jasper being the one to order the attack on the men of her house. "Very well", she said, "I shall go to them." She stood up and left, knowing that it would be futile to bring guardsmen with her, she left alone. She wondered how the two of them were doing, they had no idea how important they were, but right now, they were probably the most important bastards in Westeros, for whoever held them held sway over the new king.

She found them in the godswood. Alla was there, with Jasper's siblings, Tommen and Myrcella, and the two children, both being fawned over by the two royals. There were also six Baratheon guardsmen and two of the Storm Knights. She recognised Ser Robar Royce and Ser Balon Swann as the ones nearby, but whereas the guardsmen were standing vigil, the Storm Knights were sitting with the others around the now royal bastards. Princess Myrcella was holding one of them, she could not tell which, but she certainly looked happy, and the Prince Tommen looked a little more scared, in a rather cute and adorable way. As Margaery approached, they all looked over to her, the guardsmen seemed to be contemplating whether or not to stop her, but they decided against it.

Jasper's children were just as Margaery remembered, curious and exploratory. Cassanna was on the ground, crawling by the bushes, poking at the grass with her chubby fingers. Meanwhile Arthur, the one being held by the princess, was looking up at her with wide golden eyes. Whilst he had taken the eyes of her house, he also had his father's jaw, square, even with the soft face of a baby. "Margaery", Alla greeted her with a smile, for, although the bastards were not spoken of outside the Tyrell family and those close like wet the wet nurse, many had avoided Alla due to the stigma of bastardy. Margaery had not, she loved her cousin, and understood Jasper"s appeal. At least at the time, for he had been both handsome and fun to be around, but now he was a much darker man, and he seemed to have taken on his uncle"s lack of a smile. Maybe having his own children with him would bring the smile back, and then Margaery would be queen to a man who was worthy and kind, rather than simply the next in line. "How are you?"

"I am well", Margaery replied, sitting down next to her cousin, "all things considered", she hastily added, remembering that it would not do for it to get out that she was not unhappy about Joffrey's death. "How are the children?"

"Much the same way", Alla replied, and there was a sadness in her eyes. Margaery wrapped her arm around her cousin consolingly. Alla loved her children, bastards or not, she had disagreed with bringing them here in the first place, using them as a weapon, but Margaery's father had insisted, and Garlan and Willas also thought it would be a good idea. But more than loving her children, Alla was now confined to Jasper's wing of the Red Keep, constantly guarded to prevent her from taking her children back to the Tyrells.

"They're beautiful", Princess Myrcella said, looking up to them, smiling and very beautiful herself.

"They are aren't they." Everyone turned to look at Jasper, who was walking over to them, dressed in black, his sword at his waist. Behind him was Joy Hill, a Lannister Bastard who was helping look after the children, she watched over them in the evenings when Alla had to go back to the Tyrell section of the Red Keep, away from her children.

Margaery made room for Jasper, and he gratefully took the seat. She subtly leaned in and pressed herself close to him. "How are you feeling Jasper?" She asked him. Jasper made a strange noise, but did not speak. "Well maybe you will feel differently with the crown on your head", she commented.

"Whoever said anything about the crown going on my head?" Jasper replied, looking at her, "I know I never did."

"You are next in line", Myrcella piped up. "With Joffrey… gone… you are the king."

Jasper gave a slight sad smile. "I do not know if I want the crown Myrcella", he said, "maybe I shall abdicate, let the throne pass to Tommen here", he ruffled his little brother"s hair affectionately, but Margaery could see through the smile, he was truly considering the act. It would be better for her chances if he did, for Tommen had no bad feelings for her as far as she knew, and a child was easier to manipulate anyway. However, she did not press the point, right now her job was to get close to Jasper, so she would.

She got up, and picked up Cassanna, holding her small gurgling body to her as she sat back down, the little one tried to reach out and touch things, until Margaery turned her around, when she grabbed a fistful of Margaery"s hair and tugged lightly on it, then she started chewing on it. "You must taste like the fruits of the Reach Margaery", Jasper commented.

"Maybe I do", Margaery replied, "when I am finally married to a husband who survives and is interested, he can tell you himself."

Jasper gave a small laugh at that. "Aren't you two getting married", Tommen asked innocently.

Jasper turned sharply to his brother. "Where did you hear that Tommen?"

"Mother and grandfather were talking about it with the fat man in green", Margaery giggled at the way Tommen described her father.

"Well", Jasper said, looking annoyed that his future was being decided. "It is not for them to decide, little brother, it may be that I marry Margaery or it may be that I marry another, I know not at this moment."

At this point Cassanna reached out for Jasper, and Margaery held her out. "Do you want to hold your daughter Jasper?"

Jasper wordlessly and awkwardly took Cassanna and held her in his arms. She smiled happily, reaching up to her father. Margaery noted that she responded to him far better than she responded to other men, particularly those in Highgarden, maybe she could instinctively tell that he was her father, or maybe Jasper was just likable to children, when she was queen, and birthing his children, she would find out which was true.


	48. ASOS The Storm Knight

_A/N: __Patrick - Sansa is still in the capital, remember Ned killed Littlefinger at the beginn__ing, so there was no one to get her out._

_As to those asking about why Jasper doesn't particularly want the throne, this chapter has answers for you._

The purple had left King Joffrey's face when he was placed upon the slab in the centre of the Sept of Baelor. Beric was pleased for that, for his sakes, Joffrey's sake but mostly from Jasper's who was, as formality dictated, standing vigil over his brother as all the lords and ladies came past to pay their false respects to the boy king. There were ten people who were standing there permanently. Jasper, his mother, who was standing to the left of him in a black dress, Tommen and Myrcella stood a little further back, also in black, their heads bowed, with Ser Arys Oakheard behind them, at Jasper's request the one remaining respectable knight of the Kingsguard following the dismissal of Ser Barristan and the appointment of the Hound, Ser Arys was to watch over them, keep them safe during this trying time. Ser Arys had bowed and agreed, but Jasper had not yet accepted the crown, and Beric knew he was conflicted over whether or not to do so. The other people present were himself, Stannis Baratheon, who had arrived the day after the royal wedding, Tywin Lannister and Lord commander Jaime Lannister, with his golden hand glinting in the minimal light of the sept. The hand was new, for Jaime had only just returned to the capital, two days after the death of King Joffrey and one day after Lord Stannis. Finally the High Septon was present as well, to officiate the preparations for Joffrey's internment. It galled Beric, more than a little, to think that this little cunt before him was going to be the first king interred within the Sept of Baelor, given King Robert's burial at Storm's End and the cremations of the Targaryen kings.

"Your brother's dead", Tywin Lannister said, looking over at Jasper. Who did not look up, stony faced, from the face of his brother. "Do you know what that means?"

Jasper nodded slowly, "it means that unless I abdicate, I shall be the king."

Most people looked at him in surprise. "Are you likely to abdicate Jasper", the queen asked, and Beric could not help but detect a hint of hopefulness in her voice, although that might have been his own prejudice.

Jasper's eyes narrowed slightly as he shot a look at his mother. "Possibly", he said finally. "True I would gain a lot, I would lose things as well but I would gain more than I would lose. The difficulty is that I love what I would lose and I do not desire what I would gain."

"Would you forsake the realm when you alone could save it?" Stannis asked his ward, who looked down in sorrow.

"Is it still able to be saved uncle?"

It was Tywin who replied, and Beric's lip curled, Stannis and Tywin were tearing at Jasper over the corpse of his brother, trying to own him. "You can save it Jasper, if you sit upon the throne then it will be the first time in a line of five kings that the realm has been in capable hands."

Stannis was about to reply, but Jasper cut across them in a quiet voice. "Please", he said, stepping down, "do not do this, not now", he turned and walked quietly towards the door of the sept. Beric only waited a few seconds before following Jasper. He knew instantly where he would have gone, to his private place atop the Red Keep. So he followed him there.

Sure enough, Jasper was sat, his legs swinging over the edge of the wall, looking out over the city, and he seemed to have tears in his eyes. His carved figure of Elenei was gone from around his neck, for he was rubbing it with his thumb by his side. "I can't do it Beric", he said quietly, "why have the gods forced so much on me when I cannot do it?"

"I cannot speak for the gods Jasper", Beric replied, not approaching his master, for it was clear that he wanted to be by himself at the edge, but he would not leave him yet. "But I have not heard one person say that you cannot do it."

"Apart from me", Jasper told him, wiping his cheek, he looked like a little boy, younger than he was when Beric had first met him then, so scared, so alone, apart from his own private goddess. "And my mother would say the same so that her golden lion takes the throne."

Beric closed his eyes, so he had not been the only one to interpret how the queen had sounded the way that he had. "Jasper", Beric crouched down but did not approach. Loyal as he was to Jasper, he knew that Jasper had to take the throne, boy kings, as proven by Joffrey, were the bane of a kingdom, but Jasper had grown up in the war, maybe he could bring the Kingdoms out of the dirt into what they were meant to be. "You are a close friend to Robb, are you not?"

"What does that have to do with my decision to become king or to pass the title on?" Jasper asked, but Beric had a point to make, and he would make it.

"You love your siblings, in the full knowledge that one day they will both be given to political marriages, you love Arya, but as long as her brother is fighting the war, she will never be free. What would you give to be able to protect them?"

"Anything", Jasper whispered, looking out over the sea.

"Well you do not have to give up Storm's End", Beric said, getting to his feet, "Take the crown, and you can protect them all."

Jasper did not look at him, he was silent, but then he said one simple thing. "Gather everyone in the throne room Beric", he did not get up, but continued to look out over bay and city. "My mother, my grandfather, my uncles, apart from Tyrion, the lords, the knights, Arya, Sansa, Myrcella , Tommen, Ser Jacelyn, the Tyrells, all of them. Tell them that I will make my decision and then I shall come to them to tell them."

Beric nodded and was about to leave Jasper alone to his thoughts, but then Arya arrived, Nymeria at her side. She indicated around the corner questioningly, and Beric nodded. Then he paused in leaving, eager to see what Arya would be able to do to Jasper.

"Jasper", she said, and, quickly looking around the corner, Beric could see that she had sat down next to him. "Why are you here?"

"Because everyone is expecting me to just take the throne, I do not want it, I have never wanted it, how many times must I say that?"

"Why are you so against it?" Arya asked him.

Jasper gave a short, harsh laugh. "I have seen two people sat in that chair Arya", he replied, "two people, and it corrupted them. My father became fat, a drunk, and an awful father, he was good in the beginning, but he changed. My brother was always a pompous cunt, but when on that throne, that was when he became truly evil." Jasper paused now, "how do I know what will happen to me when I am there. I don't want to become any of those things." Jasper sniffed and then added, as an afterthought, "it is also the most uncomfortable chair I have ever sat on."

"You won't Jasper", Arya replied quickly, "do you really think I would let you, that Beric would let you, that your uncle would let you? You will be a good king, king of a unified realm."

"Will I now?" Jasper asked rhetorically.

Arya was getting very fierce now. "If you do not take the throne I will never forgive you?"

"And if I take the throne and end up killing your brother?" Jasper asked back, "will you forgive me then?" Arya was silent, Jasper had won that point. "How much must be burdened upon me, everyone seems to think that I am the one person who can mend the realm, that is not the case."

"You can do it", Arya replied to him. "I believe in you."

Jasper scoffed, "why is that? Why do you believe that? What have I done to make you think that? My lordship of Storm's End has consisted of battle and war, I can win the war, that much I know, but I do not know how to run Seven Kingdoms."

"You think anyone really knows?" Arya replied. "You are disappointing me Jasper, you have always stuck by your duty, why are you abandoning it now?"

Jasper did not reply for a long time. Beric knew why, that was what was holding Jasper down, his sense of duty. "When I sit upon the Iron Throne, it would be my prerogative to abdicate if I wished it, that would not be going against his duty-" there was a sound that Beric recognised at once as a slap.

"You are turning into a coward!" Arya hissed loudly, "I would not have thought it of you, your brother was a craven, you are not, do not become one now."

"Never call me coward Arya!" Jasper hissed back. "You have no right to call me that, you don't know what this mean Arya, if I take that throne it will undoubtedly change me… forever."

"I have already said I won't let you change", Arya said, much more quietly now she had provoked an angered response from Jasper. Beric decided that he should leave Arya to it, and left to follow Jasper's orders. Hoping as he did that Jasper would take the throne.

Beric had never seen the throne room so full and yet so silent, there were always petitioners and patriots all claiming to want something from the Hand of the King, since he had never seen any king give it. It seemed that Tywin and Cersei were busy fighting for the closest position to the throne, Cersei holding Tommen before her, almost ready to put him on it already, that woman had some serious mothering issues, it was not wonder that Jasper turned to Elenei. Arya and Sansa, both with their large wolves present took position far from everyone else, the two Stark guardsmen with them. The Tyrells were in their own group on the other side of the throne to Cersei and Tywin, Margaery being closest to the throne, the only one not there was Alla, who was no doubt being watched by Baratheon guardsmen, somewhere else with her children. Beric knew it wasn't a Storm Knight watching them, for they were all here. Stannis stood before the throne, and on the throne itself sat the large golden crown that Joffrey had worn. Other lords bannermen from the Stormlands, the Westerlands, the Crownlands, the Reach and Dorne, who had arrived the day after Stannis had under escort from Bryce Caron, were stationed around the room, separate with very little order, although the Dornish, under their Princess Arianne, were far from the Tyrells, it seemed that, although they fought for the same king they did not bond during the war. The one unifier of the room was that every single person in it was looking at the doors, which were closed at the moment, breaths were being held as the people waited to see when Jasper would come through them. Then they opened, and Jasper stepped through in his black clothes, it seemed he had changed a little, for he wore a different tunic, it had a high collar with the left collar folded down and tied with golden rope to his shoulder and the other stood tall. The Kingsguard marched ahead of him and parted the people so that he could reach the Iron Throne. Beric knew it meant little, for Jasper was rightfully the king until he abdicated or died, and as such the Kingsguard were to obey him. They stopped and stood aside, making a corridor for Jasper to walk through. He stopped before the throne, reaching out and running fingers over the swords and pommels on the throne. He took up the crown and held it up to examine it, turning it over deftly in his fingers. Then he held it out to the left. "Uncle Stannis", Stannis moved forward and took the throne, the queen looked horrified, even Beric seemed confused. Was Jasper ignoring succession laws and passing the throne to his uncle, surely he knew that Tywin would kill him and put Tommen on the throne if he did.

"Jasper?" Stannis seemed confused, but took the crown anyway.

"Melt it down", Jasper told him, "I want a simple band of gold with an embossed stag." He turned and sat upon the throne, "if I am to be king then I decide upon the crown I wear." Beric let out a sigh of relief, as the Lords of the realm bent their knees to Jasper, sitting upon the throne like he was born to it.

"We had best get to work then", Tywin said, "how will you begin your reign, your grace?"

"Controversially", Jasper said, "but as is necessary. Ser Arys", he said and his Kingsguard knight stepped forward, 'stand with my siblings", he indicated Tommen and Myrcella, "take them to the side, the rest of you", he said to the Kingsguard, 'stand before me." The Kingsguard bowed and then straightened to their feet. Jasper stood up and walked up to Ser Meryn, who stood at one end of the line. Then, he walked down the line, and one by one, all the way to the Hound who stood at the other end, unfastened the cloaks of the Kingsguard, allowing them to pool at their feet. Gasps rushed through the crowd as he did so. It had been shocking enough when Joffrey had dismissed Ser Barristan, but Jasper had all but disbanded the Kingsguard. His mother looked shocked, and Beric knew that she had arranged many of the appointments herself. Even Tywin looked slightly shocked. Jasper re-took his place on the Iron Throne. "Ser Beric", Jasper called to him, and Beric approached, bowing before Jasper. "Take up Ser Jaime's cloak", Beric walked over to the Kingslayer, who looked as though he was ready to commit murder, but with his sword hand gone, he would not be doing so to Beric. "Ser Rolland Storm, take up the cloak of Ser Meryn", Ser Rolland nodded and did the same, holding it to his chest as he took up the cloak of the disgraced knight, who looked mortified, as though Jasper had just ordered him publically stripped. "Ser Robar, the cloak of the Hound, retrieve it." Ser Robar, son of Lord Yohn Royce of the Vale, took the cloak from the feet of the Hound who, amongst all the Kingsguard, looked the least concerned. "Ser Balon, take the cloak from the feet of Ser Boros", Balon bowed and heeded Jasper's decree, Boros looked more confused than shocked, but he was always a dim witted one. "Ser Guyard, the cloak of Ser Osmund is yours", the young and energetic knight took up the cloak with a flourish. Beric was half surprised that he had not swung it around his shoulders instantly, but Jasper had not named them to the Kingsguard yet. "Ser Loren", the one Westerlands knight of the Storm Knights, and the last of them, stepped forward. "Take the cloak of Ser Preston." The cloak was retrieved and the men of Joffrey's Kingsguard, looked unsure of what to do with themselves. "You are dismissed sers", Jasper said to them, but only the Hound moved, almost grateful, it seemed, to be rid of the cloak that was now being held in one hand by Ser Robar.

"Jasper", Cersei asked from the side, smiling sweetly but with daggers in her eyes as well. "What are you doing?"

Indeed it seemed the only one who seemed truly appreciative of what had happened was Stannis, who smiled slightly, even though he rarely did so. But Tywin had a certain gleam in his eyes, which Beric suspected was due to the fact that, unbound by Kingsguard oaths, Tywin had his heir back. "What should be done", he replied coldly. He shifted in the throne and looked forward. "The previous Kingsguard let two kings die without stopping it, some were political appointments and others merely unworthy. Ser Arys is the only one to have proven himself to me, so he remains with his cloak." The old Kingsguard looked upon their former brother with venom in their gaze. "However my Storm Knights have proven themselves to me on the battlefield, their loyalty and their valour make them ideal for the Kingsguard, I can trust them at my back, rather than to put their swords through it", he finished, as an obvious point against Ser Jaime.

"Your Uncle Jaime-" Cersei began.

"Killed one king, for the good of all, I am sure, but still, he killed him, then let another die and was absent for the death of the third. Hardly the best track record", Cersei still seemed to bristle, but Jasper was not done. "Ser Beric on the other hand has protected me since I was nine from hidden blades, on the battlefield, when I have been hunting or sailing and I am still here. He will make a fine Lord Commander of my Kingsguard."

Beric could not honestly say he was surprised. He had been Jasper's sworn shield since he was nine, and had been the unofficial leader of the Storm Knights since the battles in Dorne, above that, he held Jasper's trust. "If your grace calls upon me", he said, dropping to one knee, head bowed before the new king, "then I shall serve him unto death."

"As shall I", said Ser Balon, dropping to his knee, a call taken up by the other Jasper had just raised, and Ser Arys, who retained his cloak, and seemed markedly grateful for it.

"Ser Arys", Jasper said, "I need you to remain and guard me whilst the rest of you go and get yourself measured for white armour, shields and cloaks of your own." Beric nodded, and made to leave. "That is all that shall be discussed here", Jasper called out, getting up from the throne. "If you have matters to bring before me, I shall be here to receive them in two days time."

Beric led the new Kingsguard from the room, smiling to himself as he went. When he was a squire for that hedge knight, he never would have believed that he would come to be the Lord Commander of the Kingsguard. But now he was, and he would do his duty, defending Jasper as he put the realm back together. He absently wondered whether, now that he had ascended to the highest position of Knighthood in the realm, his father would acknowledge him. He realised another thing as he thought this.

He didn't care.


	49. ASOS Robb II

Robb looked over his assembled men, his camp had lost soldiers in the battles with the Reacher hosts, although he had repelled them in two battles, he had lost some of his foot in the process, his horse remained mostly intact, but the foot, less so. And now news had reached him of Randyll Tarly, the finest battle commander and soldier that the Reach could boast, the only man to have inflicted a defeat upon Robert Baratheon, was on his way to take command. However Robb still felt quietly confident. So far the southern lords had been unable to put themselves in a position where Robb was truly fighting on two fronts, for as he spoke, Kevan Lannister was marching west with the Lannister forces to drive the Ironborn from the Westerlands, which meant that Robb had to strike the Tyrell hosts now, weaken them before Lord Tarly took to the field. Currently Ser Axell Florent was camped across the Trident's Red Fork, himself inside the castle of Raventree Hall, the seat of House Blackwood. Given the fact that the Blackwoods were one of the few southern families that were followers of the Old Gods and the fact that the defeat of this reachmen host would be a strong victory with which Robb could proceed, Robb had directed his men to march upon the hosts of the Reach outside Raventree Hall. However, there was an issue. What with the men of the Trident he was keeping to watch the Golden Tooth, and the small host under the command of Lord Karstark he had stationed at Harrenhal, Robb had around thirty thousand men, half rivermen half northmen, with which to battle the men of the Reach. However, Ser Axell had two hosts of similar size to his one host, and Robb would have to smash one quickly, before the other host, less than a day"s march down river, caught him in a trap. However, this was Robb's chance, Jasper Baratheon's host had returned home, leaving minimal men to defend the capital, if he could take the Reachmen hosts out of the war, then the way would be open, he could march on the capital, defeat the crownlanders and then take King's Landing, forcing the boy king to bow to his demands. His plan would work, he was sure of it, his uncle Brynden was sure of it, the GreatJon, Lord Karstark, they were all sure of it, so he would ride and be victorious, although a part of him, a small part, but a part nonetheless, was slightly disappointed about not meeting Jasper on the field of battle, after hearing about the Battle of the Storm in the Reach, where Jasper had put an end to Renly Baratheon's rebellion with only three thousand men, Robb had been eager to see which of them was the better battle commander.

But Robb knew that such a wish was folly, a boy's thought, and he was no longer a boy. He knew that his plan, although his commanders believed that it would work, was fraught with risk, and that it was truly a desperate move, but it was the last play that they had, and they had to make it now, whilst the Ironborn continued to ravage the Reach and the Westerlands causing a distraction for the Iron Throne, if the entirety of the rest of Westeros turned against him, Robb knew that defeat was inevitable. Fortune was with him in that the new Iron King, Victarion, seemed to realise that their goals coincided, for he had halted the minor raids that his brother had sent against the North which, although doing very little damage, had shaken his host a little as some, particularly the Tallharts Ryswells and Dustins wanted to return home to defend their lands, fortunately, the Ironborn left with minor loot, so Robb could keep his host intact and whole, it was the destruction of the Twins that had caused the most harm, it had angered and shaken the Riverlords, made some of them rash, the Freys now only held one castle, that on the East bank which had been able to hold out, but Lord Walder had unfortunately, or fortunately for some, been in the West twin with most of his brood and had perished. Lord Stevron Frey now fought for the Riverlands, but was eager to fight the Ironborn and, despite his age, Robb had difficulty reigning him in and keeping him under control, fortunately, much of the Frey host was still intact, for it was not at the Twins at the time, but under Ser Edmure's command at Riverrun.

There was a knock at the door, and Robb called out for whoever it was to enter. "How many more battles must you fight Robb", Robb turned to see his mother, looking tired, approach him, she always looked tired, and she had been sad, since his father's death, and more so after her failed negotiations with the Eyrie, when she had been unable to persuade her sister to send the Knights of the Vale to assist them, if she had, then the war would have been won, Robb could have continued his first march into the Crownlands and against King's Landing, rather than retreating after Duskendale. That retreat had shaken his men's faith, it was only when he once more won a victory, shattering the vanguard of the Reach outside Acorn Hall, that had revitalised them, but he knew, one more retreat from King's Landing would be the doom of his host, they would lose all heart. No his next march on King's Landing would go ahead, to victory or bent knees.

"As many as I have to mother", Robb replied, stroking Grey Wind's head, of all his thirty bodyguards, none were more faithful or dangerous than Grey Wind, who was almost the size of a small pony now.

"I was afraid you would say something along those lines", his mother replied. She sat down at the window of Pinkmaiden, where they currently were, and looked out over the Riverlands. She looked at the men readying themselves to march, and her lips tightened.

"I want to see the boys again", she said, and Robb knew she was referring to Bran and Rickon. He wanted to see them too, but he had his duties. He would send her as soon as he was able, but with the destruction of the bridge of the Twins, only the Ruby ford was able to lead to the causeway, and that brought her too close to the Reach for his liking. He would try to find a way to cross the River once he had broken the Reachmen lines, then she would return home with an escort of men.

"As do I", Robb replied, "and we shall, I promise". They sat still in silence, Robb held his mother in his arms, feeling that he was a poor substitute for his father, but trying to comfort her all the same.

"Your grace", they looked around and saw that Brynden Tully was there. "The hosts are ready to march at your command".

Robb nodded and turned to his mother, "stay safe mother, I shall send you word of my victory from Raventree Hall".

Two days later, his hosts, divided into Rivermen and Northmen, but all with multiple Stark banners amongst them, were camped, readying themselves to make their attack on the Reachmen, camped at the two fords, separated by a small wood, that were the path to Raventree Hall. Their composition was almost the same, foot soldiers, mostly spearmen, as well as some archers. The famed knights of the Reach were being held in reserve, to counter any break in the line. Robb knew how he would fight the battle and he briefed his commanders on the plan. "Martyn Rivers", he said to Lord Walder's bastard, one of the many. "You are to take out outriders, Ser Brynden has done a fine job so far making sure that the Reachmen ahead of us do not know of our approach, it will be up to you to take the outriders down river and prevent the other Reachmen host of learning of the battle, that is essential".

He nodded, "as you decree your grace".

"Ser Brynden, you shall command the assault on the western ford, I shall lead the attack on the eastern ford", Robb told his granduncle, "I am trusting that you will know the waters better than our foes".

Brynden nodded, "if we catch them in a march before dawn, we should be able to break them without too much difficulty".

"Even so", Roose Bolton said, looking a little sceptical in the plan, but then he had always been a cautious commander, but skilled, he had suffered the smallest number of losses of all Houses from the North, "assaulting a fording point is a difficult endeavour, I remember well the Battle of the Trident, it was King Robert's warhammer that won the day when he struck down Prince Rhaegar, and I highly doubt that Ser Axell would do us the kindness of presenting himself to your blade or your wolf".

Robb nodded, as always, his battlefield advice proved sound, but Robb had a plan. "I will not be relying on the frontal assault to break the Reachmen", he said, "two units will be necessary, the Sellswords, under Hellman Tallhart shall ford the river not far from the battle".

"We only have seven hundred sellswords", Hellman pointed out, "and it would not be easy if the Reachmen were to discover us".

"It is the purpose that they do", Robb replied, glad that none of the Sellswords were here, "I would recommend you send them on ahead without going yourself, they are to be a distraction. The main part of the battle plan will come from you Robbet", Robb said, turning to the heir to Deepwood Motte.

"What would you have me do, your grace?

"You shall take two and a half thousand men, mostly horse and cross the river further down, far out of sight of the Reachmen, then you shall ride down on the flank of the Reachmen, breaking them at the western ford and allowing them to pour across and attack those defending against us. Once the fords are taken, they should break, remember, most of their lords are not here, but in King's Landing". It was that fact that had allowed Robb to win such brilliant victories at Acorn Hall and Pinkmaiden, the Reachmen did not have their lords to rally them against Robb's ferocious assault.

"This is the plan my lords", Robb said, he could not brook dissent now, "we shall carry it out tomorrow".

Robb went to bed that night, hopeful for victory the next day.

Robb was sat upon his warhorse, Grey Wind beside him and one thousand heavy horse at his back. His foot, under the command of Lord Umber, were marching in formation towards the bank and he could see, just beyond the woods, Ser Brynden was doing the same. His archers, under the command of Lord Bolton, were marching ahead and to the side, they would pepper the Reachmen, who had lined up against them, with arrows whilst they made a crossing. It also seemed that the gods had favoured Robb, for, according to Ser Martyn's scouts, the Reachmen had been standing at their posts all night, and as such were more tired than Robb's men, who had at least gotten a few hours of sleep. Robb had not expected to enter this battle with fresher men than his foe, but it was an advantage and one he was willing to take.

Lord Bolton began the battle by firing into the Reachmen spearmen stationed across from them, who held their ground and raised their spears, even though some of the arrows found their mark, between the gaps in the shields or before they were raised. At the same time, the GreatJon was leading the foot into the river and Robb saw that the same was happening the other side. Just before they emerged onto the far bank, the Reachmen forces charged down into the water to fight them. It became a pushing match, and Robb's men were pushing on slippery rocks against strong men. Robb rode as close as he dared, he wanted to be in the melee, but he was to command the horse as they charged through the broken Reachmen lines. To his right as his men pushed against the northern bank, Robb noted Hellman Tallhart's sellswords begin to raft the river at a distance, and the Reachmen noticed too, for some men were detached to defeat them, but still their line held, if anything, it began pushing back harder. When The GreatJon took a wound and was forced back a little, Robb ordered his horse to dismount, they would have to fight on foot, where, even though they lacked their horses, they were still more skilled than the levies on the far bank. Robb led the second charge into the ford as the water began turning red, some of it from his ford, but much of it from the western ford, from which the water flowed, and where the fighting seemed all the more savage.

The first Reachman who confront Robb had a sigil of some grapes on his surcoat, a shield in his left hand and an axe in the other. Robb ducked the axe and rammed his sword home into his gut, he could not hear if the man screamed or groaned, for the flowing waters and the sounds of clashing steel and other screaming men drowned it out. Robb pulled out his blade and made ready to confront the next opponent, a spearman who thrust at Robb's own belly. Robb was about to turn to the side and then hack of the spear tip, but Grey Wind got there first, blood on his muzzle already and catching the spear in his jaws, snapping it off. Robb smiled and raised his sword, slashing for the neck of the spearman who had frozen in fear at the sight of Grey Wind, His sword bit into the neck of the man, but did not go all the way through, some sinew and skin holding it on as it lolled onto his shoulder, blood spurting into the air. _Ice would have cut through him like nothing_, Robb thought angrily hacking down, across the chest of the next man to confront him, sending his entrails slithering into the water where, like the eels they looked so alike, they were washed down stream. Slowly but surely, Robb fought his way through the Reachmen, pressing them back onto the bank of the river, leaving their bodies in the red water. The Reachmen sounded warhorns, but it was futile, the sight of Grey Wind in particular was starting to make them panic. Robb and his loyal friend fought through Reachman after Reachman, once, his sword was knocked from his hound so he seized the man and started pounding his face with his gauntlet, as he had seen Jasper do to Joffrey at Winterfell, but with a metal glove, he was caving the face in. When he stopped moving, Robb looked for his sword, but it was just out of reach and the next opponent was charging at him wildly. Robb seized the axe of the man he had just felled and, when his opponent raised his sword to bring it down on Robb's head, he swung with a heavy sideways swing, burying his axe into the man's stomach like it was a soft tree. He retrieved his sword and hacked off his head, then he moved onwards once more. Then his foot found solid ground, he had made it to the other bank, letting out a cheer, he led his men through up against still firmer reachmen opposition.

However, the Reachmen were then broken as the Northern horse under Robbet Glover and the Rivermen horse under Brynden Tully scythed into their lines like a knife through hot butter, scattering the Reachmen and allowing the Northern foot onto the bank. The horsemen pursued the Reachmen, cutting them down without remorse, but Robb let them do it, each man that was killed here was one less he had to contend with later, when the second Reachmen host came to fight him.

Robb prepared to lead his men on to Raventree Hall, not far up the river, perhaps he would send Hellman and his remaining sellswords ahead of the host, once Raventree was liberated, which would take no time at all, Robb would turn his attention to the second Reachmen host.

And from there, King's Landing.

However, when Robb's mother arrived at Ranventree Hall a few days later, things had changed. Randyll Tarly, through rapid movements had arrived and taken command of the other Reachmen host and was re-organising it, rallying the scattered bands of the one Robb had just smashed. But what changed the situation most was what she brought with her. A letter, addressed to Robb, from Jasper.

Wondering what Jasper had to say, Robb opened the letter.

_Robb_

_I hope that this letter finds you well, Arya is asking after you almost daily now, Sansa too. Both are well, I promise you, no harm has come or will come to them or their wolves, anyone who harms them will answer to me_.

Robb was not too consoled by that, Jasper may be a good fighter and a high lord, but his brother was the one who worried Robb, and his brother was Jasper's king, Jasper could not act against him. Robb continued reading the letter.

_Alas, I write to you not on matters of Sansa or Arya, but of this war. It has gone on long enough, I know your hosts have suffered casualties, it is impossible for them not to, you cannot sustain this war indefinitely, you will be worn down by all the hosts arrayed against you if you carry on. I do not want to see that, I want to see a realm united as one again, and finally I am in a position to do that. But this cannot be achieved whilst you are in rebellion. _

_It is for that reason, that I invite you to a peace summit, to take place at Duskendale, so recently occupied by your hosts. You may bring your entire host if you wish, for I have sent riders to Lord Tarly and granduncle Kevan, telling them not to attack you without my leave, however if they are attacked by you, then my orders are considered null and void. _

Robb wondered where Jasper had gotten this authority.

_Please come Robb, I do not want to fight you, but continue this rebellion and I will have no choice. As a token of good faith, my riders have also delivered something that belongs to you, I am afraid it is not your sister, either of them, but it is still of value to you I am sure. _

_I will expect to see you at Duskendale at the turn of the moon, for that is when I shall be there. _

_Farewell Robb_

_Jasper of the House Baratheon, first of his name, Lord of Storm's End, Lord Paramount of the Stormlands, King of the Andals and the First Men, Lord of the Seven Kingdoms, and Protector of the Realm._

Robb stared at the last line in amazement, looking up at his mother with wide eyes.

"Jasper is king?" He asked her, and she nodded.

"It appears that his brother was poisoned on his wedding day".

"No less than he deserves", Robb thought, but he still wished he could have removed his head with Ice himself. He looked back over the letter. "What did the riders bring?"

His mother beckoned and two guards knelt before Robb with a long wolf pelt, a wolf pelt wrapped around a sword, a wolf pelt he knew very well wrapped around a sword he knew even better.

Robb took the blade breathlessly and partly unsheathed it. Sure enough, Jasper had sent Robb Ice, his father's sword.

"What will you do Robb?" His mother asked, and he could see in her eyes that she was desperate for peace, for the return of Sansa and Arya.

Robb did not have to think hard. "Whether to march on King's Landing or attend these peace talks, all paths lead to Duskendale".


	50. ASOS Jasper V

_A/N: Blorg13 – I think that it is probably around 40,000 at the absolute extreme, as in calling up every man from around fifteen to sixty to fight. The reason he doesn't call up more is that he needs them to farm in the North and the Ironborn have been raiding the north, so he needs some men to keep the homeland safe. _

_As for letting him be independent, that would start a precedent of kingdoms being able to leave the Iron Throne and, whilst the North is more remote, Robb is also claiming the Riverlands, which, being in the centre of the Kingdoms and very fertile, is very vital in keeping his realm secure. _

"May the Warrior grant him courage, and protect him in these perilous times. May the Smith grant him strength, that he might bear this heavy burden. May the Crone, she who knows the fate of all men, show him the path he must walk, and guide him through the dark places that lie ahead. May the Maiden grant him kindness, and the will to protect the innocent. May the Mother grant him mercy, in the face of those who would oppose him. May the Father grant him justice, and the power to rule these lands. In the light of the Seven, I now proclaim Jasper of the House Baratheon the first of his name, King of the Andals and the First Men, Lord of the Seven Kingdoms, and Protector of the Realm." Jasper felt the gold circlet be placed upon his head, and he opened his eyes, looking over the sea of the assembled lords and ladies, knights and septons. He was on one knee, his head slightly bowed as the High Septon gave his final proclamation. "Long may he reign!"

"Long may he reign!" Called out everyone else in the room. Jasper stood up as the applause began he saw certain faces in the crowds, Arya, his mother, Sansa, Stannis, Margaery, all of them smiling, even Stannis, though it was only a little.

Jasper stepped back and sat down upon the Iron Throne, his crown upon his head and took several deep breaths. Now came the tediously long wait as every single noble in the hall swore their allegiance to the new King. It was a process he had to go through, but then, once done, he could ready his men and march to Duskendale for the peace talks with Robb, there he hoped to end the war without further bloodshed.

"_You gave too much to the Stark boy before this meeting", Jasper's grandfather told him, and Jasper could see that there was a certain impatience to it, as though he was expecting more from Jasper. _

"_I disagree", Jasper replied, "I gave Robb enough to get him to come to this meeting, but the cards are still in my hands."_

_Tywin looked unconvinced, but Jasper did not care for convincing his grandfather, he had re-forged the Kingsguard into something of what it should be. Stannis was, even as he had this argument, purging the City Watch of all corrupt officers for immediate transport to the Wall. If he had to make a few concessions to an old friend in order to secure the peace he needed, then he would. Peace was what Westeros needed now. Peace not victory. "I still think you have been too lenient on the traitor boy", that was his mother who spoke now, as Jasper readied himself, the Kingsguard and some other retainers to ride for Duskendale. Lord Ralph Buckler's host was already there and the walls were fortified. Crownlands forces were marshalling as well, under Adrien Wendwater, with which to march to his aid should Robb betray him. Jasper did not think he would, but war had changed him, why should it not change Robb. _

"_I wouldn't need to be negotiating with him at all if you had prevented Joffrey from killing Lord Stark", he retorted angrily. "Now leave me be, unless there is another matter." _

"_What of the trial of Tyrion", this time it was Mace Tyrell, who was also there, along with the rest of the council. _

"_It can wait for my return", he replied, pulling himself up onto his horse. "I am sure that you can begin arranging things for it grandfather." Jasper said to Tywin, who nodded. _

"_Of course your grace." _

Jasper adjusted the crown. As per his instructions, Joffrey's ridiculously large ring of gold, with many points and embedded jewels, had been melted down, and Jasper himself wore a simple band of gold, with only the embossed Stag telling which side was the front. Even so, it was not very comfortable, it was hard, it was cold and it was tight when pulled down fully, which it had to be or else it would constantly need readjustment, as he had just done. The road to Duskendale was watered and the fields around it almost flooded by the autumn rains that had come to the Crownlands. Most in the company were able to deal with it, coming from the Stormlands which had many summer storms that were far worse, but Ser Robar and Ser Loren, resplendent in their white cloaks, armour and shields, were less able to cope with it, the Vale and the Westerlands not being nearly as wet as the Stormlands. However they did not have to deal with the mud in the same way that the soldiers camped outside the town of Duskendale did, they were cold wet and miserable and the only consolation was that the Northern host, less than a day's march away, would be feeling the same.

Calls of "your grace" came from the camp and Jasper raised his hand to greet those who said it as he made his way into Duskendale, where Robb would either be there or soon be joining them. Jasper had hoped to be riding on his armoured warhorse, but Tobho Mott, wanting perfection from his new armour, had not yet finished it, so he was on his second warhorse, a white one, which contrasted well with his armour.

It seemed there would be no waiting, for in the main hall of Duskendale, there were over a dozen northern soldiers, armed with swords and spears, all dressed in the Direwolf of Stark. Robb himself was sitting down at a long table, his own crown resting atop his red hair. Unlike his own golden crown, Robb's was made of iron and bronze. It fit him much better than Jasper's fit him, it seemed like it was meant to be there. It was a pity therefore, that Jasper would have to take it from him, by words or by swords, it would be done. Robb also looked older, all the softness that was once in his face was gone and it was replaced by a man, lean and hard as the North he came from. "Robb", Jasper greeted as he took his seat opposite Robb, his Kingsguard fanning out to take places where they could defend him.

"Jasper", Robb replied, nodding at him. "How have you been?"

"Well enough", Jasper replied, almost a complete lie. "How about you?"

"Much the same", another lie.

Robb opened his mouth, about to speak, but Jasper cut across him. "I think we can both agree that neither of us will agree to the demands of the other, so let us drop the original demands and continue from there."

Robb nodded, "fair enough, so how shall we proceed?"

"By pointing out the facts", Jasper told him. "More than forty thousand men of the Reach are ready to march on Riverrun. The Werstermen are ready to march east once more, just as soon as they repel the Ironborn. This war is beyond your capability to win it now Robb."

"I don't know", Robb replied, with something like the gusto he used to possess when Jasper visited Winterfell in his youth. But tempered at the same time by the iron strength of a man who had never been defeated in battle, believed that he could win and had a just cause. "You and Lord Tarly are the only men I have not yet defeated in battle."

"And you will not find it easy if it comes to that Robb, you know that", Jasper commented, and Robb nodded, smiling slightly. "Why must more blood be shed, this war can end now, here."

"I know what happens to defeated Lords", Robb said his face darkening, "hostages are sent to King's Landing to ensure good will, money is extracted to pay for damage, no matter who it is who does the wrong", there was a dangerous tint to Robb's voice about the last comment, and Jasper knew he was referring to Tywin's devastation of the western Riverlands following the Battle of Harrenhal. "Why should I suffer that for my lords."

"Whoever said you would?" Jasper replied, "I understand why you did what you did Robb, truly", he hoped Robb would bend, one of them would have to do so, the question was, who was iron, and who was steel. "But it is a simple matter of sums, you cannot win."

Robb did not reply at first, he simply stared at Jasper, who stared back, neither backing down. "My father was accused of treason", Robb said finally, "I refuse to believe that, never was there a man so loyal."

"I concur", Jasper replied, agreeing with Robb, whole heartedly. "I have tried to find out why he was arrested, exactly what his crime was, but no one has, as of yet, provided a satisfactory answer."

"You do not believe that my father was a traitor?" Robb asked, surprised.

"I never saw him commit treason", Jasper replied calmly, "and no one has said anything to me that would make me think that there was any."

Robb looked satisfied with that, which Jasper knew meant he was making progress in bending Robb, now he had to be careful not to break him. "Your brother ordered him dead", Robb muttered.

"I am not my brother."

"Tywin Lannister burned my lands."

"I am not Tywin Lannister."

"Your mother holds my sister."

"I am not my mother."

Silence once again, Jasper and Robb did not look away from each other, both waiting for the other to blink. Jasper blinked first. "I gave you back Ice as a demonstration of my commitment to peace", he said. "What will you give me?"

"Nothing until you return my sisters, return them, and then we can talk of peace."

"Why would I do that?" Jasper asked Robb, not rising to the bait. "When we can gain peace today, at this meeting."

"Do you think so?"

"I may not be as strong a believer as the High Septon would wish, but I have faith in that, yes", Jasper replied, tracing a circle in the wood of the table with his index finger.

"Truly", Robb replied, "give me a reason why you should accept."

Jasper sighed, it was clear that Robb was not going to give the first list of requirements for peace, so he would have to do it himself, he had several generous suggestions in his head, and had hoped that Robb would begin so that his could appear as alternatives. Instead, Robb would be issuing the alternatives for his list of requirements. This meant that Robb would bend him, and he would not bend Robb, and Robb was a much more malleable person that he was. "For starters, I will not insist on any hostages from the North or Riverlands be sent to King's Landing."

"Not one", Robb did not seem convinced.

"I can write that in an official document if you wish", Jasper replied off handedly, for he did mean it, what use would they serve other than to create further enmity between the North and the south, which was not something Jasper wanted. "Furthermore, no tributes shall be demanded from any surrendering Lords, not one gold dragon in recompense." Robb still looked sceptical, and Jasper was not yet done. "Furthermore, my first born son and heir, I propose that he spend three moons of every year from the time he is able to learn in Winterfell."

At that, Robb could not keep his silence. "Why would you do that? Give your son to a traitor for several months of every year?"

"Because, I claim to be the King of the Andals and the First Men", Jasper replied. "Those titles have passed from Aegon the Conqueror down to me. Yet, the Targaryens were Valyrians, my father was a drunk and my brother a fool. I am an Andal, as my son shall be, he must understand the First Men and their culture to be the King of the Andals and the First Men."

Robb looked staggered, "that is quite a degree of trust you are putting in me."

"Robb, I would trust you with my son more than I would my mother", Jasper replied, "I believe that you would never harm him."

Robb took a few breaths, "are those all your requirements?"

Jasper shook his head. "My Lords and family would declare me insane if I left with no hostages", he replied.

"But you said-" Robb began.

"That I would have none sent south", Jasper finished, "but I said nothing about those already there, as such, I shall keep Arya close. Sansa shall be returned, but Arya remains with me."

"And your betrothal?" Robb asked.

"I will respect the opinions of both you and Arya on that front", Jasper replied, although he knew that the only alternative to her was Margaery Tyrell, or Sansa, he supposed, but to keep her in the place which had harmed her so much, that would be cruel, even amongst his family. Robb nodded, and Jasper continued. "Apart from that there are only the obvious things. You will relinquish your claim to Kingship, surrender your crown and swear the same oaths to me that your father swore to my own, your bannermen too, and then there shall be peace."

"You swear you will hold fast to those terms?" Robb looked like he was on the brink.

Jasper knew he just needed one last push, and nodded. "I swear it, I also swear that should you reject these terms, then in a matter of days you and I shall fight a head on battle where one of us shall win the day and the other shall fall. And then, if I am victorious, my terms will be far less generous."

Jasper stood up and walked along the length of the table towards his old friend. Praying to Elenei that he would make the right choice.

Robb stood up, and, after what looked to be a fierce internal debate, bent to his knee. He removed the crown from his head and held it out to him, as Torrhen Stark had done to the Aegon the Conqueror.

"I serve you my king now and forever."


	51. ASOS Tyrion IV

The only thing giving Tyrion any reassurance was that his cell was not one of the black cells, through it some light could come, although his stunted height prevented him from seeing out of it much, apart from the sky. Other than that, his cell was dark, dingy, piss filled, shit covered, and it stank worse than Robert Baratheon after he had gone hunting and drinking. All for a crime he did not commit, the gods must truly hate him, or maybe just Cersei and his father. Either way, Tyrion was not pleased by his situation, because even if he had done what they were accusing him of doing, they should be rewarding him with a lordship and money rather than a cell and then removal of his head from his shoulders. No it seemed the person responsible would be getting no rewards or punishments for their actions. No doubt they were extremely happy that he was being considered responsible.

Tyrion was drawn from his reverie by the door being unbolted, and he recognised the mop of black hair that entered, it was Podrick Payne, his loyal squire who had saved his life on the wall of the city, from Ser Mandon Moore. "Pod", Tyrion greeted morosely.

"My Lord", he replied, "I tried to bring you some wine but they took it from me."

"A noble effort", Tyrion replied as Podrick started searching various parts of his clothing, his collar, his sleeves, his boots and others.

"They didn't find the candles though, or the quill, ink, paper, Duck sausage, almonds and some hard cheese", Tyrion's eyes widened slightly as Pod put every one of the items onto a bench.

"You're a good lad", Tyrion said. "What is happening out there?"

Pod looked around before answering. "To be honest, Jasper has turned into such a controversial king that people are not paying too much attention to you my lord."

Tyrion raised an eyebrow, "do tell."

"His very first act was to dismiss the Kingsguard", Pod said, "he stripped all but one of them of their cloaks in front of dozens and replaced them with men loyal to him."

Tyrion was surprised, he thought Jasper had more respect for tradition than that, he had changed. "All but one", Tyrion repeated, looking to Pod. "I suppose my sweet sister forced him to keep Jaime did she?"

Podrick shook his head. "No my lord, the one who kept his cloak was Ser Arys."

Tyrion nodded, Ser Arys had spent more time with Jasper than any of the Kingsguard, apart from Ser Barristan, Jasper trusted him so Tyrion was not too surprised that he had kept him. He had thought that Cersei would fight to keep Jaime here though, keeping her lover in the capital. No doubt their father would soon send Jaime back to the Rock to be his heir, normally that would have made Tyrion red with rage, that he had been stripped of what was his, but the prospect of his impending trial and possible death made it seem less relevant now. "What else has Jasper done that is controversial?" Tyrion asked, interested to know what his nephew was doing that was the word of the streets.

"No one outside the council knows", Podrick replied, looking around once more, "but he had peace talks with the Northerners, Robb Stark bent the knee and rumour has it that Jasper let them off without any sanctions." Tyrion wondered if Jasper was just trying to spite his mother, or did he truly trust the Northerners to such a degree. Maybe they had made a mistake in thinking Jasper would be as good a king as they thought he would be, Joffrey just made him seem like a so much better prospect.

"Any other news Pod?"

Podrick nodded, "the trial shall take place in a fortnight", he said, "you stand accused of regicide."

_Of course I do_, Tyrion thought, "do you believe it?"

"No my lord", Pod replied very quickly.

Tyrion nodded, "the world is a better place with him gone, but I would like to think that if I was planning on killing the king I would do it in such a way so as to be absent when his death occurred, not gawping like a fish." Tyrion them gave a small scoff as he thought of something else. "My brother kills a king and my father thinks highly of him, I supposedly kill one and then I am threatened with death for it."

Pod did not reply, simply smiling sadly at the thought. "Have they announced the judges yet?" Tyrion asked.

"Again there is only rumour", Podrick replied, sitting down, "but it is supposed to be your father, Lord Mace and Princess Arianne."

Tyrion was surprised by the last one, less so by the other two. "So my father who will call me guilty no matter what, Lord Mace, a man who will vote exactly how my father tells him to, and the Dornish princess, trust my father to take advantage of a family tragedy."

"This is not set in stone yet my lord", Podrick replied, "for the King has not yet returned from the peace summit, he is due to arrive within a few days."

"Well then", Tyrion said, scratching an itch on his arm, "let us hope that he is as controversial then as he has been up until now, if Jasper decides to preside, then maybe my head will remain attached to my shoulders."

"Why do you say that my lord?" Podrick asked.

"Because if Jasper officiates, I can imagine he will have other ideas for the other judges, possibly he will name Stannis Baratheon, a man obsessed with justice, and Ser Beric Storm, who also is an upholder of the truth."

"It is Lord Commander Beric Storm now", Podrick replied. "He took your brother's place in the Kingsguard."

Tyrion realised that he should have made that connection when Pod had told him that Jasper had replaced the Kingsguard. Of course he would name his most loyal soldier as his first protector, he had some sense that way.

"Thank you for these Pod", Tyrion said, pointing to the items that Pod had smuggled into him. "But I need some time alone now."

Podrick nodded and left the room, leaving Tyrion alone with his thoughts.

"It's not too bad you know, four walls, a pot to piss in, a window, you're not chained up." It was several days later, and Jaime had entered the room, his hand glinting in the limited light, taken a seat against a pillar in the room, and they began talking. "I had three and a half walls, the half wall leading to a cell with a madman who kept me up all night. No pot to piss in, no window, I was chained up, overall, I'd say you have a nice cell."

"Is that supposed to make me feel any better?" Tyrion asked his brother.

"It's meant to tell you that things could be a whole lot worse for you than they are", Jaime replied, looking at him, tapping his golden right hand with his flesh left one. "I'm sorry I didn't come sooner", he continued, and he did look genuinely sorry.

"I understand", Tyrion replied, circumstances prevented it. "So how is our sister?"

"How do you think?" Jaime replied, half contemptedly, "her first son died before her in the arms of her second son."

"_Her_ first son?" Tyrion asked.

Jaime closed his eyes, "don't." They were silent for a while, silent apart from the sound of Jaime tapping on his golden hand. "You know what"s coming don't you?" He asked eventually.

Tyrion nodded, looking up at the black ceiling, "my trial for regicide. I know, I know the whole bloody country considers me guilty, and I know that one of my judges has wanted me dead since birth, and that that judge is my own father."

"The other two have nothing against you though", Jaime commented and Tyrion looked at him.

"So Lord Mace and Princess Arianne are to join him?"

Jaime shook his head, the hint of a smile on his features. "No", he commented, "rather he will be joining Lord Stannis and Jasper, as the King presides over the trial in person."

Tyrion closed his eyes, relief beginning to flood him. "So he _did_ insist on presiding in person."

Jaime nodded, "and I know your squire told you the rumours about the peace talk with the Young Wolf, the rumours are true, he is punishing none of them."

"I suppose Cersei is less than pleased, which works out badly for me in the long run."

"Now that you say that", Jaime commented, smiling again, "she did ask."

Tyrion scoffed, of course she"d ask Jaime to kill him, why would she do anything other than that. "Well then", he said, shrugging his shoulders lightly, "should I close my eyes, and turn my back?"

"That depends", Jaime replied, changing from tapping his golden hand to stroking the golden fingers on it. "Did you do it?"

Tyrion raised both eyebrows, "are you really asking me if I killed your son?"

"Are you really asking me if I would kill my brother?" Tyrion shook his head, he knew Jaime would never harm him. Not truly. "How can I help you?"

"You could set me free", Tyrion replied.

"A capital offence" a new and very recognisable voice said as the door opened, "and I have no wish to execute my Uncle, either of them." Jasper stepped through, and Tyrion saw two white armoured Kingsguard behind him.

"Your Grace", Jaime replied, getting to his feet. "I should go."

"I wanted to speak to both of you, about different topics but still, both of you", Jasper interrupted. Neither Tyrion nor Jaime replied, and Tyrion noted that Jasper was not wearing a crown. "Uncle Jaime", he said nodding to him curtly. "I wish to repay you for my actions when I removed you from the Kingsguard, my words they were… wrong of me, I apologise. Name a boon and I shall grant it if I am able."

Tyrion looked to Jaime, wondering both what Jaime would ask for and, at the back of his mind, he also wondered what Jasper had said. "You were right to dismiss me your grace", Jaime replied, holding up his golden hand, "I cannot defend you properly with only one hand. As for what I want? I wish to remain here. In the Red Keep."

Jasper nodded, "we have two open positions", he informed them, "we need both a new Master-at-arms and a new Master of Laws, we do not have one to replace Renly yet. I am sure grandfather would object to me naming you Master-at Arms, he would deem it too lowly, but I could make you Master of Laws."

Tyrion saw a smile grace Jaime's face only briefly, but it was there. He was not in the Kingsguard anymore, but he could remain in the Red Keep, with Cersei. "Thank you your grace", he said.

As he was about to make his leave, and leave Tyrion with his nephew, Jasper called out. "I want you to begin your work shortly", he said, and Jaime turned. "I want the City Watch of King's Landing to be the finest force of standing soldiers on Westeros. As soon as you are able to, turn them into that force." Jaime nodded and left. Jasper took a seat on one of the benches. "How are you Tyrion?"

"I have been better your grace", Jasper grimaced at the title, "do you not like the title?"

"It always fit others far better than me", he replied. "I am sure Jaime told you that I mean to preside over the trial myself."

"How did my father take that?" Tyrion asked, curious, and wondering why he did not ask Jaime the question.

Jasper took a breath, "he said he thought it was good for me to take charge of such things myself, I think he still thinks that he can decide the outcome for me."

Tyrion highly doubted that, his father had always been a good judge of character, he would know that Jasper was even harder to control than Joffrey, for Joffrey could always be cowed into submission, but Jasper had been raised by Stannis Baratheon, a man who had eaten boot leather rather than surrender. "At least someone will give me a fair trial", Tyrion commented and Jasper coughed. Tyrion looked over to him.

"You want to be proven innocent, I can understand that, I am sure any could understand that, but as a judge, we cannot discuss the trial." Jasper looked at him pointedly, so Tyrion dropped the topic.

"What did you want to speak to me about then Jasper?"

"I was wondering", Jasper asked, getting up and heading over to the window. "Why Ned Stark was killed", Tyrion sighed inwardly.

"You are bringing this up now?" Tyrion asked, "why now?"

Jasper turned to look at him. "Well, depending on how the evidence looks at the trial, I may not be able to ask you before long."

"Do not lose faith in me just yet."

"Faith is little substitute for fact", Jasper replied, looking stern now, "I would have the truth."

"And I would give it to you", Tyrion replied, "except that I do not know any more than I have already told you."

Jasper looked into Tyrion's eyes, and Tyrion looked back. The Jasper turned and opened the door to the cell. "Your squire, Podrick", he said to Tyrion, who briefly wondered if Jasper was threatening Pod, "I shall send him to collect a list of witnesses from you within the week. Think hard on that Tyrion, I have no wish to see you dead."


	52. ASOS The Twice Married Maiden

_A/N: To those wondering about Daenerys, do not fear, she will be coming in to the story at the start of the next book, do not worry, the dragons are still here. _

_eddys: Yes, Jasper does realise that he is probably suspected of the murder, but one, he knows he is innocent and two, he has been crowned officially, there is not a lot anyone can do about it if it were him._

_danceegirl92: Tyrion was in the capital when Ned was captured, look at chapter Tyrion I in the first book, it also explains about Baelish in this chapter. Tyrion does know about Joffrey, but to reveal that would mean the deaths of Cersei (who he doesn't care about) and Jaime (who he really does)._

_The reason for that is that Joffrey, preoccupied by Jasper having pounded his face into pulp in Winterfell, did not send an assassin for Bran, so all the events that followed that, Catelyn going to KL, Tyrion getting captured at the Inn, did now happen. _

_Silver Crow: Interesting idea, I had honestly not thought about doing a son of Victarion story, I will give it some more thought but it would be pretty hard to do (but all the more rewarding and fun at the same time) due to the limited Ironborn actions in the war. I have got some other ideas though, like a son of Stannis, an older and far more robust son of Jon Arryn, another son of Tywin, in between Jaime and Tyrion, and, one that I am semi writing now, although I have hit a snag, Robb's twin brother. _

_However the main problem with a son of Victarion story is that, one of the many things I like about Victarion are his psychological issues that he has towards both his brother (understandably) and women in general. A son would very much change these so it would take some doing to work out how to write the Iron Captain, I might write some chapters and see how it goes. _

_As for Rhaegar, I will be the first to admit I am not a fan of the man, for my RLJ rant, look to Eddard IV, but a brother who doesn't kidnap and rape Lyanna (my personal belief there) might be interesting to write as well. _

_So, if anyone else has thoughts on these story ideas, or ideas they have/would like to see, do feel free to comment. _

_Anyway, I'm done with the A/N now, so on to Margaery Tyrell again. _

"I can't believe you are leaving", Margaery said as she walked arm in arm with her grandmother through the gardens of King's Landing, a path they had walked together before. "Leaving me alone with these people."

"Hardly alone", her grandmother replied, "Garlan and your father remain with you. Besides, the time has come my dear, there is nothing more tedious than a trial. Except perhaps these gardens", she continued, plucking at a nearby flower and letting it fall to the path as they continued walking. "If I have to take one more leisurely stroll through these gardens, then I shall fling myself from these cliffs." Margaery giggled as the two of them took one last seat together in their usual spot. "How is the new king, have you seen him yet?"

Margaery shook her head, "not much, mostly he is making changes to the court, he is too busy for pleasurable meetings." There was a pause as Margaery looked out over the water. "Have they even agreed to our match yet, nobody tells me anything?"

Her grandmother chuckled a little, "I do not know either, it would be your father or brother you would have to speak to on that regard, what I do know", and she looked sternly at her, as she had when she was teaching Margaery in her youth, "is that the eagles are gathering, all seeking to put their claws into that boy, if you do not grasp him first you shall only be left with the scraps." Her grandmother re-arranged her hair as she leaned in, "luckily for you, the queen regent is still in mourning for her dear departed boy, she has not yet taken flight, she is also accusing her brother of the murder, a murder he did not commit."

Margaery was taken aback, "well he could have done", she said fairly.

"He could have done, and no doubt he wanted to", she replied, "many would, but in this case he didn't."

"You do not know that grandmother", Margaery replied.

"Oh but I do know" she said, and Margaery's eyes widened. "You didn't truly think that I would let you marry that monster did you?"

"But, I don't… understand."

"Sh sh sh", she told Margaery, stroking her necklace with her fingers as it hung around Margaery's neck. "Don't you worry yourself over the matter, just do what's needed of you. Of course, things did not go entirely as I had hoped, I had hoped that Jasper would be blamed for the murder, so you could be with Tommen, a boy far easier to manipulate than Jasper, but all the same", she added, looking at Margaery sternly, "you are better off now than you were before."

"You killed the king" Margaery whispered.

"I would sooner have you made a whore, a septa or a silent sister before letting that brute come anywhere near putting a child inside you." Margaery had not fully recovered from the shock of that, when a Tyrell guardsman approached, along with the twin bodyguards of her Grandmother, Eryk and Aryk.

"My ladies", he said, bowing, "your things are loaded and ready to go."

"Excellent", Margaery's grandmother replied as she got to her feet.

Margaery got up too. "Are you sure it is safe?" Margaery asked, "the Ironborn are still there."

"Lord Tarly and his men are already on their way there and shall arrive ahead of me", she replied off handedly. "I shall be perfectly safe, your brother shall be following once the trial is completed to help repel the Ironborn fully, they have held the Shield Islands for far too long. And the Arbor too." Margaery linked her arm with her grandmother's once more, and they made their way to the courtyard of the Red Keep.

However, they heard sounds of shouting and heavy arguments, coming from it and, when they reached the top of the steps down into the courtyard, they saw that Baratheon guardsmen were hauling the various trunks and crates back into the Red Keep whilst the Tyrell household looked on helpless. Margaery's mouth opened, wondering what was happening. She saw a white armoured Kingsguard, who was clearly overseeing the Baratheon guardsmen and took her arm out from under her grandmothers in order to approach him. "Ser", she called and he turned to her, his arm outstretched as he pointed at another box that the guardsmen had left behind. "What is the meaning of this?"

"No one who sat at the High Table at King Joffrey's wedding is to leave the Red Keep", he declared, and Margaery could see scars from the pox through the visor of his helm and knew that this knight was Ser Rolland Storm, a man who worshiped the Warrior aspect of the Seven, and was supposedly just as fierce in battle.

"Under who's authority?" Margaery demanded.

Ser Rolland lifted his visor and removed his helm, looking at Margaery with fierce eyes. "These are not the days of King Robert or King Joffrey any more Lady Margaery, he said, letting his helm fall to the floor as his hand drifted towards his sword hilt. Margaery turned and saw that her grandmother's bodyguards were approaching, their hands on their sword hilts. "There is one person in King's Landing who can give an order to a Kingsguard, and I am not here by choice."

So Jasper had sent them to make sure that they did not leave, so he did not believe his uncle had done it then. "Stop this action ser", Ser Aryk said, gently taking Margaery back as he and his twin brother stood between them both.

Ser Rolland used his thumb to move his sword ever so slightly from his scabbard. "Stand down sers", he warned, "I act with the King"s authority."

Ser Eryk drew his sword, but in an instant was on his knees, choking as blood poured from his throat which had been opened. Margaery blinked, she had not seen Ser Rolland's blade it was so fast, but it was now out and blood dripped from the tip onto the white marble of the courtyard, Margaery stepped back in alarm, and to put some distance between herself and the two knights if there was to be a fight. Everyone looked around as Ser Aryk roared at the death of his brother, and attacked the knight of the Kingsguard, who parried every thrust and slash, whilst countering ably. Then, with a battle roar, Ser Rolland knocked Ser Aryk's blade aside, slammed the pommel of his sword into his face, breaking the nose as he did so and causing Ser Aryk to grip it as blood poured from between his fingers. However, Ser Aryk did not have to worry about it for long, for Ser Rolland's sword was soon protruding from his belly. He withdrew it with a sickening sound and then knelt down, wiping the blood from it on Ser Aryk's cloak.

He then got to his feet, sheathing his sword once more. "Now, my lady", he said, sounding as though he had not just fought a fight at all, certainly not caring that the blood of the twins was coating his armoured boots, "if you have further complaints, take them up with the king."

Margaery had half a mind to do so, however, when she approached the doors to the Keep, her grandmother stopped her with a hand on her arm. "Let me take this matter up with his grace", she said, "it would not do for you to anger him, far better that you console him after I have done so." With that, she bustled off into the keep, seemingly unconcerned over the fates of her bodyguards, and Margaery, wondering what to do, decided she would visit Alla once again.

After spending some time with her and Jasper's bastards, in the company of Ser Robar Royce and five guardsmen who were watching over them, her grandmother came up to them sat down, looking disdainfully at Alla and the twins. "How odd?" She commented, "that boy is as hard as steel and yet as unbending as black iron", she commented, "he has changed a lot from when I last saw him, your work is cut out for you Margaery, but I have no doubt that it will make the result all the sweeter.

Margaery nodded and looked at the children, Arthur and Cassanna, imagining them as hers, and many more besides, although none of hers would have golden eyes, for she had inherited the brown eyes of her family, not the gold, but still, it gave her a warm feeling inside. Her grandmother did not remain long as soon she was complaining about something and left, Margaery took Arthur onto her knee, as she had done before, and held the adorable boy close to her as he took hold of a lock of her hair.

"Alla", Margaery asked her cousin, who looked over to her with golden eyes, eyes she had gifted to Arthur. "How would you suggest I go about claiming Jasper?"

Alla looked a little sad, and Margaery knew why, Alla still had some feelings for him, but she knew it was necessary for Margaery to become the queen. "I would say that, as much as Jasper tries to bottle it up whilst dispensing justice, he is still a man, and men have needs, offer him a way out for those needs and he will only be repulsed, but make him come to you, make him seek comfort from you, then he will become yours."

"You think so?" Margaery asked.

Alla nodded, "yes, and if you don't go soon, he may turn to another and then, you will have to find a different way."

"What?" Margaery asked, confused.

"He will not marry you just because he fucks you", Alla pointed out, or I would be the queen by now, "if it comes to him fucking another woman, this may be the result", she indicated her twins, "but they will not secure a permanent place in Jasper's bed, it will just be harder for you to claim that space."

Margaery nodded and decided that she would visit Jasper that evening. However then the new king entered the gardens and sat down with them. "Your grace", Margaery greeted, smiling sweetly, "what are you doing here?"

"Can I not see my own children?" Jasper asked her back simply. He reached down and picked up his daughter. Cassanna seemed overjoyed at her father's return and, when Jasper held her close, she wrapped her chubby arms around his neck. Jasper kissed his daughter's cheek and continued to hold her close.

"Your grace", Margaery said, "I have been meaning to ask you something."

"Not now", Jasper replied, "I do not wish to answer questions now, if you have something to ask, come by my chambers in the evening." He looked tired and worn out, he had been working hard and soon he had a trial to preside over, that would take it's toll on him, she had to be his relief from that toil.

Margaery nodded and intended to do just that, however, she was delayed with family matters. Her brother told her that he was seeking permission of the king to leave and help defeat the Ironborn, but that Jasper would not allow it until the guilty party in the murder of his brother was revealed, meanwhile, her father had been unable to speak with Jasper about the marriage of herself to him. Therefore, she was more resolved than ever to win it herself, and so, even though darkness had engulfed the Red Keep, she donned a revealing gown and made her way to Jasper's chambers. She would not make love to Jasper before their wedding, for such a thing would be improper, however, that did not mean that she could not make Jasper want her to warm his bed in the cold nights of the coming winter, and bear his heirs for the summer and spring.

She approached his door and the Kingsguard on duty who, with his helm off, she could see was Ser Guyard Morrigen, a fine swordsman according to Loras, and he must have been loyal to Jasper to earn a place in his Storm Knights, and from there the Kingsguard. "Ser Guyard", she greeted him with a smile, and he smiled back at her. "May I pass, I wish to speak with the King?"

Ser Guyard replied "his grace is…" he opened the door a crack and peers in. Margaery, although she could not see through the crack, could distinctly hear the sounds of bedsprings and grunts and squeals, and the slapping of flesh on flesh. Then Ser Guyard closed the door, blocking out the very distinctive sounds from the King's chambers, "… in talks, you may speak to him in the morning lady Margaery." The Knight had a slight smile on his face as Margaery turned, half mortified, and walked away.

It seemed Alla had been right, Jasper had turned to another for comfort, but that made her task harder. _I have to be the queen_, she thought, _or else the position of our family is at stake,_ she took a deep breath and made a decision, _if I have to give my maidenhood to him early, then so be it. _


	53. ASOS Victarion III

_A/N: This is a short one, I know, but I just needed to show the Ironborn perspective on things._

_The driftwood crown was uncomfortable and unwieldy, which was why, as Victarion sailed for the Westerlands, he left it behind. He was the Iron King of the Iron Islands, that was fact since he had won the right at the Kingsmoot, he needed no crown to prove it. However, for Victarion, the greatest result was that off the Crow's Eye's actions. By law, if you enter as a candidate in a Kingsmoot, you are honour bound to respect the result and obey the Iron King. Euron had sacrificed all right to Kingship of the Iron Islands by fleeing when the result was done, he had shamed himself and his name, he was forever an outcast from the Iron Islands. His Islands. _

_There was almost total darkness in the sky when Victarion's ships finally approached the city of Lannisport. As it had been before, Lannisport's twenty three ships were the closest threat to the Iron Islands, and, if Victarion's plan for the Iron Fleet to become the only fleet in Westeros was to work, it had to be taken. He had sent Wulf One-Ear ahead with just less than half of the Iron Fleet, telling him to make the attack as they had before, except this time, more than the Lannister Fleet, the entire city was to be taken, all the wealth their present, seized and all those who resisted slaughtered. At the same time, Victarion had dispatched his two closest relatives, the two who had lost the Kingsmoot yet remained loyal, on other objectives for his campaign. According to a raven from Dagmer on the Arbor, the Redwyne ships were picking off the reaving longships one by one, and they were not designed for sea warfare, rather they were for quick transport. So Victarion had sent Yara with many longships south to put a stop to it and finally end the threat of the Redwyne ships so that he could prepare for the Royal Fleet which, now that the Reach had been accepted back into the fold, would be coming around to face them once more. This time, he would be victorious. In the meantime, in order to fully emulate Dagon Greyjoy, Victarion had sent Theon to carry off the wealth of Fair Isle just off the coast of the Westerlands. He had not given Theon many men for he did not want to lose them over Fair Isle, he would need them for later, for if he lost all his reavers, what was the purpose of freedom. However, Theon had been despatched many days previously, he had probably nearly finished and was on his way to join in the assault on the Westerlands. _

_Victarion breathed in the sea air with closed eyes, and also smelt smoke, before long there was also a light appearing from behind his eyelids. He knew they must have arrived. And sure enough, when he raised his eyelids, he saw that Lannisport was ablaze. He could see some of his ships at anchor and knew that his reavers were, even now, tearing through the town, paying with Iron for everything that they took. He only felt regret that he had not taken part himself, but he needed to find a suitable replacement to be named Lord Captain of the Iron Fleet, which meant letting others take responsibility and charge at first. Set off from his ship and entered the flaming city. He saw piles of corpses, mainly of the famed City Watch of Lannisport, stacked tall and set aflame, all valuables stripped from them, women and whores were being raped in the streets whilst their children looked on in horror, their husbands also, but with axes held to their throats. In some cases it was the other way around, with the women looking close to vomiting at the sight before them. Victarion had not time for it. There was war to be made_

Victarion snapped from his daydream about the days following his ascention. He was at Pyke when he heard the news that the war was turning against the Ironborn, sitting in the Seastone chair that he thought would never be his, nor had he wanted to be his, and listening to the grim reports. Randyll Tarly had lead the Tyrell hosts back from the riverlands following the submission of the Starks in the Riverlands, thankfully, given the devastation that had been wrought upon the Redwyne Fleet, and the Ironborn longships that prowled the straights, they were stuck on the main land and Yara, having pulled her Ironborn of the mainland to the Arbor and the Shield Islands, knew that they were safe. However, that would not appear to be the case for much longer. News had reached Pyke, news they had been at the same time dreading, anticipating and eager for. The Royal Fleet had sailed, longships that were raiding the coast of Dorne, spoke of how the Royal Fleet was passing the Stepstones and was circling the continent, on their way towards the Arbor, the Shield Islands and Randyll Tarly's strong host. However, the reports were conflicting. By all accounts, Mater of Ships Stannis Baratheon had remained behind in King's Landing in order to assist the new Greenlander King with his ascension. In his place, he had appointed the famous Onion Knight to command the ships. Which meant Victarion could defeat him, the way was clear, he would defeat the Royal Fleet, and then the Greenlanders would have no choice but to accept Ironborn independence. Unlike the Young Wolf, Victarion would not need to gain the agreement of the Iron Throne, if he destroyed their fleets, it would just be something they would have to accept.

In the Westerlands, following the sack of Lannisport and unleashing Theon, the Ironborn harried the entire coastline, from Castle Crakehall in the far south of the Westerlands, to the Banefort in the far north, and many settlements between the two, including Kayce and The Crag. However, under the Lion's brother, the Lannister hosts were returning and Theon quickly retreated to Fair Isle, but unlike Yara, he had maintained a garrison in Lannisport, commanding it himself, and clearly trying to fight for it. Victarion was of half a mind to send a ship to tell Theon to retreat, but he knew that his captains would know to retreat, even if Theon would not. However, if Theon could defeat the Lannister hosts, then perhaps Victarion could use Lannisport as a base to do as the Hoare kings had done before the landing of the Dragons, and carve out a kingdom in Westeros by invading the Westerlands. But he was getting ahead of himself, first he would destroy the Royal Fleet, the Kingdom would come later. It was then, that he ordered the Iron Fleet prepared, all those warships that had been captured were crewed now by more Ironborn, those that were being built on the Shield Islands and the Arbor. They would go south, he would intercept the Royal Fleet before it could collect the Tarly host, he would sink it, and then he had won.

The Shield Islands were where Victarion had sent the order for his war fleet to gather, and it was a glorious sight. Alongside the scores of Ironborn warships that were floating in formation, the Kraken on the sails along with the sigils of the captains and lords, but the Kraken was dominant, there were close to three dozen warships taken in various raids. These warships ranged from galleys to war drommonds, but they were all crewed by the mail clad Ironborn, armed to the teeth with war axes, swords and spears and arrows.

More Ironborn were camped along the beaches of Greyshield, some were playing the finger dance whilst others were enjoying the loot they had captured, and others their salt wives. However all of bowed when Victarion approached, their heads low, and it reassured Victarion to know that they believed in him.

Victarion made his way to Grimston, the castle of the island, where he was to wait for Yara, who would have more knowledge for him about the encroaching Royal Fleet and Tarly host.

She arrived within a few days and made her way to him, Victarion greeted her warmly. "Yara", he smiled at her, and she half bowed to him.

"Uncle", she replied, "I have news for you." Victarion nodded and allowed Yara to progress. "My longships are not able to get into the Redwyne straights and fire at the Tarly host on the coast, the remnants of the Redwyne Fleet have taken up position there, more than thirty warships, we can harry them and prevent them from transporting the host across, but we cannot destroy them."

Victarion nodded, he had hoped that the Redwynes would be cowed into submission finally, but it seemed that, no matter how much of their fleet he destroyed or captured, the remaining ships were clearly willing to do their duties until the end. And he would make it their end. "What of the Royal Fleet?" He asked, "where are they?"

Yara bit her lip in a manner which was highly unlike her. "Closing in, I would say that they are around the area of the Brimstone River now."

Victarion cursed, the Brimstone was halfway across Dorne, if the Royal Fleet was already there, then he would need to go now. "Yara, return to the Arbor and ready your longships, I need you to raid the Royal Fleet and delay them, slow them down enough for me to get there and smash the Redwyne remnants, then I shall turn my full attention to the Royal Fleet." Yara nodded and left.

_Stannis Baratheon is the only man to have beaten me at sea_, he thought darkly, stroking the blade of his axe with his thumb as he sat down. _You will not become a second, Ser Seaworth_.


	54. ASOS The Lord Commander

Beric felt the uneasy eyes of the council upon him. Cersei was staring at him with undisguised hatred for taking her twin's place at the table, not that he was ever in a position to sit there. Tywin was looking at him with a cold kind of calculation, Varys was much the same, and Pycelle seemed to be a little angry himself, Beric not being quite sure what he had done to earn the enmity of the Grand Maester, but he would no doubt not be there for long, he would be dead and in the earth, and then maybe someone would be assigned to be Jasper's Grand Maester who did not look at him in such a way. Jaime had narrowed eyes, but he was looking at Beric"s cloak rather than his face, so Beric did not concern himself with it. Stannis was the only one not looking at him, instead he was looking at the table intently. There were two absent seats at the table, one was Tyrion's for there was not yet a replacement Master of Coin, and he knew that Jasper was holding off doing so until a guilty verdict had been rendered, or not, at which point Tyrion would return anyway. The other was Jasper's himself, and he was running late for the meeting, Beric was not entirely sure why, if Jasper didn't explain, the he would ask Ser Balon, who was on guard last night, or if it was something to do with this morning he would ask Robar and Guyard. But he suspected that it would be unnecessary, Jasper was normally very good at attending meetings, so he was sure that he would explain. Tapping on the table drew Beric's attention to the last member of the council, one who was not a master of anything, but was only there as an adviser, the father of Margaery Tyrell, Mace Tyrell. Mace Tyrell had been granted the advisory seat on the council by Jasper as a consoling gesture for Joffrey's death and the ruination of the wedding that Mace had paid for. Jasper had confided in Beric that he wanted to bridge the gap he had made with the Lord of Highgarden when he slew Loras Tyrell in battle.

"I thought Jasper would have been here by now", Cersei commented into the silence. Then she looked over at Stannis. "Should you not be with the Royal Fleet Lord Stannis?" She asked.

Stannis looked over at her darkly. "Jasper wanted me to stay and help him in his first days as King, Ser Davos will lead the fleet well."

Tywin made a noise, "a man who made his living avoiding ships, and you send him against Victarion Greyjoy, a man who lives to attack them."

"I am Master of Ships, Lord Tywin", Stannis replied, "I decide who leads the Royal Fleet."

"That decision can be overturned by the Queen Regent", Cersei stated coldly, and the look she was giving Stannis made Beric make a mental note to tell Stannis to get a food taster. "And the Hand of the King", she indicated her father.

"Both of whom can be overturned by the king", Jasper entered the room, dressed in formal black clothing with golden Stags, the reverse of the Baratheon sigil which he had reversed because Jaime wore gold and Jasper wanted to be different, and his crown on his head. He made his way to the head of the table. "I am sorry for my lateness my lords", Jasper said, sitting down swiftly, taking his crown off and setting it down on the table to his right. "I had a matter to deal with first."

"What matter?" Beric asked, wondering if his men had been less than complete in their duties.

"No matter", Jasper said, "Arya was missing and I had to look for her, I do not know where she is but I will find her when the meeting is done and before the trial."

"The Stark girl", Cersei asked, and Beric looked to her, slightly relieved, for his men were to guard Jasper not Arya, although he would no doubt tell him to assign one of his men to do so. "She is in the dungeons."

"What?!" Jasper demanded, looking over to her, Baratheon Fury in his eyes, understandable to Beric. "Why?"

Cersei looked affronted that Jasper had taken that tone with her. "Because she was planting something in your chambers", she explained, "we saw her coming out of them several hours after you had gone to eat. The whore was trying something."

Beric whistled, she would regret that. Stannis shook his head equally, he also knew why. "Whore!" Jasper declared in a dark tone that Beric had never heard him use against anyone but his brother. "She is my wife, and your anointed queen, mother!"

The silence was deafening. Beric memorised the moment for future use as Cersei, Tywin and Lord Mace looked openly shocked at the new information. All of them had expressions unbefitting their rank. Beric remembered the ceremony well. It had happened at dusk, Arya, Jasper, the Kingsguard, Edric, Devan, Lord Bryce Caron, one of Jasper's close friends, Sansa, Myrcella, Tommen and Stannis had gone to the Great Sept and the two of them had married that evening, Jasper had sworn them to secrecy, saying that he would reveal it when the time was ready. They had spent every night together since. "B-but _I _am the queen!" Cersei declared.

"You are the Dowager Queen", Stannis declared, causing all to look at him, most with raised eyebrows, "you are here at the King"s will only, do not overstep yourself Lady Cersei."

Cersei was speechless. Beric smiled at the look of incredulity on her face as Jasper turned to the door. "Ser Guyard", he called out and the knight of the Kingsguard entered and bowed. "Go to the dungeons and release my queen." The knight nodded and, without question, marched from the room to recover the queen.

The incident gave Lord Mace time to find his voice. "But… my daughter…" He began.

"What about her?" Jasper asked.

"You were to marry her", the Lord of Highgarden said. "Lord Tywin, your mother and myself have discussed it often."

Jasper shot his mother and her father a furious look. "I mean no disrespect to my Grandfather, or my mother", he added, "but _I _am the head of House Baratheon of King's Landing, if you wanted a marriage offer, you come to me."

"B-b-but", Mace Tyrell spluttered.

"I had no agreement with you about your daughter Lord Mace", Jasper interrupted him, "I was promised to Arya by our fathers a long time ago in a betrothal agreement that was never broken, the crown can ill afford another extravagant wedding, so I did not have one." Mace Tyrell was speechless, but Jasper intended to make it up to him, at least, Beric assumed he would. "Lord Mace, your daughter has married two of my relatives", Jasper pointed out, "one of them died before he _would _bed her and the other before he _could _bed her. It is not a good precedent." Beric"s thoughts were confirmed by what Jasper said next. "I do however have a proposal for you Lord Mace, for I do see that you have come off poorly."

"What deal?" The Lord of Highgarden asked.

Jasper reached inside his tunic and withdrew a formal letter. "This document solidifies your claim to Highgarden under my dynasty", he declared and passed it to Mace, who broke the seal and opened it. "By marrying your son and heir Willas to my sister Myrcella, should you consent to the match. Do not decide now, think it over, but then come back to me, for now, we have affairs of state to deal with."

"Not Myrcella", Cersei said, almost pleading and Beric knew that she did not want to see her daughter sent away.

"Uncle Stannis was correct mother", Jasper said, "you are here at my permission only. Now, to the affairs of state before the trial."

Jasper turned to Varys. "The Night"s Watch has elected it's new Lord Commander, your grace", the Spider said, his arms inside his sleeves.

Jasper nodded, "who is it?"

"Jon Snow, your grace, Ned Stark"s bastard son." Jasper nodded again, seemingly pleased. "He appears to be having some trouble uniting the former wildlings and keeping the peace on the gift."

Jasper stroked his clean shaven chin. "His brother resides is the Lord of Winterfell, have ravens sent to both and tell them to be ready to intervene if things get out of hand, I want a constant vigil on the Wall."

"Of course your grace", Varys replied, and Grand Maester Pycelle nodded.

"What else?" He asked the table.

"Whispers from the east, your grace", Varys said. Beric raised an eyebrow, what whispers, what was the man talking about?

But the Lord Hand did know what he was speaking of it seemed. "The Targaryen girl."

"What Targaryen girl?" Beric asked, "the Mad King's daughter?" Beric knew that she had survived when her brother had not, but nothing more than that, he assumed she had died later on.

Varys nodded, "Daenerys has taken up residence in Meereen", she stated, "she has conquered the city and now rules it as queen."

"What?" Jasper demanded, "last time I heard of her, she had lost her Khalasar, how did she conquer Meereen?" Beric was in the same boat, Meereen was a large city, and hardly undefended, how could they have lost to a girl with no host at her back?

"She commands a host of Unsullied your grace, some eight thousand strong, she has a company of sellswords, the Second Sons, she has two knights advising her, Ser Jorah Mormont and Ser Barristan Selmy, and she has three dragons."

Jasper put his head in his hands, and Beric felt like doing the same. He had woken up thinking that he would have to deal with a trial, but that the problems for his kingdom were slowly ending. Now he heard that there was a new one, one that could easily become bigger than all the rest. It was not helped when Varys informed them that Ser Jorah was no longer spying on her for them.

"Dragons", Beric muttered, and the same number that Aegon had when he conquered the six kingdoms, brilliant.

"Dragons are not the concern", Jasper said, finally raising his head to look at them. "The day of the Dragon ended after the Dance, the times of hosts of men at arms have been before and since. But now she has both, and she must be dealt with, I want no dragons on my land."

"How would you do so, your grace", Tywin asked him, an eyebrow raised, "by force?"

Beric was sure that Tywin had a solution and was just waiting to see what Jasper would suggest first.

Jasper thought for a bit, and then spoke. "How much Dragonlore is known in Essos?" He asked no one in particular.

"Worse than we have here", Grand Maester Pycelle said, "they lost their dragons long before the Targaryens lost theirs. The citadel probably has more on dragons than anywhere else in the world, apart from possibly Asshai, but that is further away than even Meereen."

Jasper nodded slowly. Beric knew that Jasper had studied Dragons, so wondered what he was thinking. "How effectively can we spread rumours across Essos?" Jasper asked finally, directing the question to the Master of Whisperers.

Varys did not seem to think before answering, although he was as confused as everyone else about why Jasper was asking this, this was no time for rumours, this was a time for action. "As effectively as we need to your grace", he said, "I can plant a rumour wherever we need it to be, I can also use taverns to spread information, ship captains going to the Free Cities from here will take them across and then the rumours can spread from the ships there to other places."

Jasper nodded, "then I want one spread", he declared, "let it be known that whosoever kills the master of a dragon takes control of that dragon."

Beric saw what Jasper had done instantly, and could not help but smile. "Yes", he said, "let those of Essos kill her for her dragons and then stop the beasts from coming here."

Jasper smiled at him, "my thoughts exactly."

The rest of the meeting was unimportant, mostly just finalising the trial which was to take place that afternoon. Beric did not feel the need to speak through that, but he did note one thing. Jasper may have made some early political blunders, marrying Arya, letting the Northerners off too lightly, but he could not deny. He was certainly an efficient and involved ruler of the Seven Kingdoms. So much so that Beric now truly believed, beyond the loyalty of believing only good about his charge, that, for the first time in half a century, the Seven Kingdoms were in capable hands.


	55. ASOS Jasper VI

_A/N: movienut96: It is possible there will be. I will have to be careful with them though because I do not want them to one, be really tacky/cheesy/awful, and two, I don't want them to become a porn thing. We'll see how it goes. One of the main reasons it is an M story is the occasional use of bad language. I put bad language in a T rated story before, not very much, and not very bad either, but it got ripped apart by angry reviewers, I took the story down, but now I am careful about what I rate stories. _

Jasper found Arya waiting in their chambers. It was just a little after the council meeting was done, but there was not too much time before the trial began and Jasper wanted to make sure she was okay. She did not look the most pleased when he found her, she was glaring at him with a gaze sharper than a needle and her lips were pressed together more tightly than corset. "Arya", he breathed, rushing over to her, "are you alright?" He brushed her cheek with his right hand whilst taking her own hand in his left.

"I just spent my morning in the dungeons Jasper, what do you think?" She demanded of him, pulling away from him. "I never thought that I would particularly like being queen, but I did think it might keep me out of the dungeons."

He sighed, sitting down next to his wife as he did so. He remembered they had been in almost reversed positions when he had nearly begged her to marry him. He had just come back from a day at work with so many people telling him to do one thing or another, with about fifty different nobles presenting daughters and sisters for him to marry and make queen, and his grandfather had been entertaining all of them. But he didn't want any of them, he wanted Arya. That evening, he had put his head in his hands as he tried to forget the troubles of the day. Arya had come into his chambers and soothed him, then he asked her to marry him, almost begged her to do it, thinking back Jasper noted every time how pathetic he must have been. But Arya had agreed, claiming that he would be the husband that allowed her to be herself. They had rushed off to the High Septon then and there, with a few witnesses and no others to be married. "It will never happen again", he told her, taking her hand with his and rubbing the back of it with his thumb.

"How do you know?" Arya demanded.

"Because", Jasper replied, "now it is known that you are my wife, none will dare touch you."

Arya looked alarmed, "how do they know?"

"I told them", Jasper said in reply, "they had to know never to do it again."

Arya looked mutinous, and Jasper knew why, they had agreed to keep it a secret until much later, when things had calmed down after Joffrey's murder, but things had changed when his mother saw her coming out of his chambers. He was about to say more to console her when the bells started tolling. "We should go", Arya said, standing up, "you have several hours of sitting in a chair made of swords to look forward to." She grinned at him and Jasper growled, seizing her by the arm as she tried to dart out of reach. He pulled her against him and kissed her fiercely.

"Thank you for reminding me Arya", he kissed her again, wrapping his left arm around her back and cupping her cheek with his right hand.

"It is my duty, _husband"¸ _this time she did dart out of reach and Jasper readjusted his crown before following her to the throne room.

The assembled courtiers and noble ladies were sitting on three tiered benches either side of the walkway up to the throne where Jasper was sitting. The witnesses were off to the side, behind doors so they could not be seen. The Kingsguard, apart from Ser Rolland, were stationed around his throne and gold cloaks lined the corridor and watched the main door. Behind him were the members of the small council, with two chairs, one to each side, set apart for the assistant judges, meanwhile his mother, the accusing party, sat off to the right, in a seat of her own, Lannister swords around her. The Tyrells had a seat of prominence on his left looking over towards him, the way Margaery smiled at him hinted that she did not yet know he was married. Jasper drummed his fingers on the pommel of the Iron Throne, waiting for Tyrion to be escorted in. The door then opened, and Tyrion, led by Ser Rolland and escorted by several gold cloaks walked down the walkway, Jasper noted that he looked decidedly ahead until he was chained in the stand of the accused, at which point he looked around the room, apparently bemused. Jasper then got to his feet, and everyone in the room did the same. It felt strange for everyone to be following him, even now.

He then cleared his throat. "I Jasper of the House Baratheon, the first of my name, King of the Andals and the First Men, Lord of the Seven Kingdoms, and Protector of the Realm, hearby stand as judge to preside over this trial. To assist me in this matter is Tywin of the House Lannister, Hand of the King, and Stannis of the House Baratheon, Master of Ships. If found guilty, may the gods punish the accused." Stannis walked across him to his seat on Jasper's right, whilst Tywin took his place at his left. When Jasper sat down, all in the room, bar the Kingsguard and the gold cloaks, followed suit. Jasper shifted, trying to find a slightly more comfortable position on the Iron Throne, and then looked to his left and right. Both Tywin and Stannis nodded encouragingly, which he needed, this would be the first time he made a decision with everyone watching. The reforging of the Kingsguard did not count in Jasper's mind, since he had made that decision before he sat on the Iron Throne.

He cleared his throat again, and began the proceedings. "Tyrion of the House Lannister", he called out, "you stand accused by the Dowager Queen of regicide. Did you murder King Joffrey?"

Tyrion shook his head. "No."

"Then how would you say he died?"

Tyrion shrugged, "he choked on his wine, I suspect."

Jasper gritted his teeth and heard Stannis do the same, this was no matter for joking, no matter how shit he was, Joffrey was still the king. "So you would blame the wine?"

"Or the grapes just leave me out of it", Tyrion retorted.

Jasper sighed as some in the room laughed a little and he looked over to his mother, who was looking at Tyrion with almost pure venom. "The crown may call its first witness", he declared.

Ser Meryn stepped through the doors at Jasper's mother's side, making his way to the witness stand, he looked smug, as always, but significantly less so without his white cloak. He shot a look of contempt at Ser Robar, who was the Kingsguard watching over the witness stand.

"What is your name, for the record", Jasper asked him.

"Ser Meryn Trant", he replied coolly.

"Do you swear by all the gods that your testimony will be true and honest?"

"I do swear it your grace."

Jasper nodded, and waved a hand to him, "then speak your piece Ser Meryn."

"It was shortly after you had left the capital, your grace", he said as he began his tale. "King Joffrey was walking the walls and demanding that Tyrion explain his plans for defending the city against the traitor King Renly. He refused, when the king insisted that he do so, Tyrion called him an imbecile, declaring that it would be pointless for him to know since he would either ruin the plans or not understand them. He slapped the king across the face and then, threatened my life when I spoke in his defence."

"I believe I did much the same thing in this very room", Jasper said, looking around the Throne Room. "Would you say that I killed my brother, Ser Meryn?"

"No your grace", Ser Meryn replied, "but your brother was being unkingly when you spoke to him, and did such, he was not doing anything to deserve what the accused said and did that day."

Stannis spoke next, "many had reason to hate King Joffrey", he said, "but that means nothing, what did you see on the day of the crime, Ser Meryn?"

The knight bristled. "I saw the accused give the king a cup of wine, the king drank from that wine, and then began choking." Jasper nodded, that was a fair point, and something that Tyrion would have to get out of at some point.

Jasper looked to his grandfather, but he had nothing to ask, so Jasper passed it over, calling the next witness, who turned out to be the Grand Maester. After swearing the customary oaths, Jasper asked him to recall what he had seen and what he had to bring to the trial. He began listing the poisons he had in his office.

His voice was so monotone that Jasper was starting to drift off, and by the time he had listed the tenth one, he had forgotten what the first four were. "Grand Maester", he interrupted, "for the sake of my arse on this chair, can we assume that we all now know you have a lot of poison in your stores."

"Had, your grace", he replied, looking up at him. "My stores have been pilfered."

"By whom?" Tywin asked, something Jasper was curious to hear.

"By the accused Tyrion Lannister", the Grand Maester replied, "when he had me wrongfully imprisoned."

"You say you were imprisoned", Stannis asked, looking at him with an iron gaze.

"Yes my lord", the Grand Maester said.

"So how can you say that he was the one who pilfered your store?" Stannis pressed.

"He had his men do so", the Grand Maester said, but Jasper had had enough.

"Grand Maester", he said, his head resting in his hand. "What crime is this trial judging?"

The Grand Maester looked slightly confused. "Regicide, your grace", he replied, "regicide of the most noble child the gods ever decided to put on this good earth."

Jasper was able to hide his snort under a hacking cough and he thought he had got away with it too. "Regicide", Jasper said after taking a sip of wine. "The most heinous crime there is, would you agree?"

"Yes your grace", he said.

Jasper nodded, "I will not pass on judgement on such a crime based on assumptions!" He declared loudly, "if you cannot prove something to the judges, or you did not witness it, then do not say it." He hoped the other witnesses heard it, for he had no desire to repeat the statement.

"What did you see on the day of the regicide, Grand Maester?" Tywin asked, and the Grand Maester gave the same story that Meryn had, adding that Tyrion had poured out the contents of the goblet afterwards. Jasper made a note of that, he had been looking at Joffrey, so did not see it, but if he did, then it would certainly build the case against Tyrion.

Several more witnesses from the day of the event came forward, and they all gave similar tales, of Joffrey dying after drinking his wine which Tyrion had given him, and several repeating the Grand Maester"s story of Tyrion pouring the wine out onto the floor.

It took a long time, but eventually, they were down to the last witness of the crown, Varys. And he did say some things that made Jasper look at Tyrion, his witnesses would have to have strong cases to help get him out of this tricky spot. "I heard him speak for many hours about getting revenge on the one who scarred his face", Varys explained, "He said that they would suffer more than he did, and he would be glad to see it. I confess", he added, "I do not know if at the time he knew Ser Mandon had been acting under orders from the king." Jasper looked over at Tyrion. He wouldn"t would he? "I also know that Tyrion Lannister requested and organised the placement of the wines at the wedding", Varys explained. Jasper looked over to Tywin, who nodded, "he knew where each wine was what was in it, more importantly, he knew how to access it."

"Thank you Varys", Jasper replied quietly. The Master of Whisperers left the stage.

Jasper's stomach rumbled and he was of half a mind to call for a reprieve, given how his mother had run out of witnesses, in the end, he decided it would be good to take a break. He stood up, "toll the bells in one hour", he declared and then stepped down and made his way off to have something to eat.

He sat down and began eating some fish in his solar, when his uncle Jaime entered the room. "Your Grace", he said, bowing, his gold hand glinting in the sun.

"Uncle Jaime", Jasper replied, indicating the chair opposite, but he declined the offer. "How may I help you?"

"I-I come to ask you…" Jasper looked up at him, "do not kill Tyrion. Do not sentence him to death."

Jasper sighed, "do you remember what I said, when I came across you and Tyrion in the dungeons?"

Jaime nodded, "that you do not wish to kill your uncles."

"That fact has not changed." Jasper took another mouthful of fish. "However, if he is found guilty he must be punished accordingly."

Jaime nodded, "I understand."

Jasper held up his hand to prevent him leaving. "However, a plea for mercy, even in the event of a guilty verdict will be listened to, you have my word."

Jaime nodded and left and Jasper, shifting on his chair, for his arse still hurt for being sat upon the Iron Throne for too long, called out for Devan, who entered. "Take one of the black pillows will you", Jasper told him, indicating a chair nearby, "go and put it on the Iron Throne whilst no one is there." Devan nodded and grabbed the pillow rushing off. Jasper hoped that, the pillow being black, people would not notice it was there.

"Are we all present", he called, when all were back in the throne room and sat down once more, much more comfortable on his pillow than the pure steel of the Iron Throne. When no one said anything to the contrary, Jasper nodded to the scribes and continued the trial. "Very well then, the accused may call his first witness." Nothing happened, so Jasper looked up. "Tyrion", he said, "did you hear me?"

"Forgive me your grace", he replied, looking confused. "But I do not recall calling on any witnesses."

Jasper held out his hand, and Devan rushed forward, nearly tripping, and passed him a sheet of paper. "It says here that you have four named witnesses", he told his uncle, who looked genuinely surprised. "Your brother, Ser Jaime, Sansa Stark, Ser Jacelyn Bywater, and your squire Podrick Payne." Murmurs swept through the crowd as Jasper raised an eyebrow. "Are you going to call one of them or shall the judges retire to render a verdict?"

"I would like to call them, your grace", Tyrion said, and so Jaime walked through the door, not looking at Cersei, and stood in the stand for the witnesses.

The customary exchange of oaths was given and then Jaime spoke his piece. "I have known my brother since the day he was born", he began, looking only at Jasper. "He is discourteous to say the least, he tells people what he thinks of them, he sometimes acts impulsively, rashly even. But beyond any of that, he is a strong thinker. I would not believe that, had he planned to kill the king, he would have done it in such a way so as to be so obviously the one responsible. Furthermore, I saw the king choke on wine from a goblet my brother gave him to be true, but I did not see my brother put anything in that wine."

That caused more murmurs. "Silence!" Jasper called out, and silence there was.

Sansa said much the same thing as Jaime, calling him kind and a protector of her, doing very well for having all those in the throne room staring at her. Ser Jacelyn spoke of Tyrion's bravery on the battlefield and how, when the danger had reached the walls of King's Landing during Renly"s assault, Tyrion had sent Joffrey away from the danger. Podrick confessed that he had been approached by someone to say that Tyrion had bought poison from the black market. But Jasper had difficulty believing that tale, since the Strangler was not to be on the black market, rather it required a Maester's skill to make and maintain. Much of the court laughed Podrick away and so he never truly finished his testimony before leaving.

Jasper nodded stood up, the court following suit. "The judges shall now retire", he declared, "you are to remain here until they return." With that, he led Tywin and Stannis to a side room, where they would be given complete privacy to render a verdict on the trial.

"None can deny that Tyrion gave the goblet to Joffrey which contained the poison", Jasper said, "I doubt even Tyrion would deny that."

Stannis nodded, "but Tyrion's defence made a valid point, not one person saw him slip anything into the drink."

Jasper gave a grimace. "In the end this trial comes down to two points", he said, and both Stannis and Tywin looked at him. "Tyrion's witnesses made a good point in that no one can say that Tyrion was the one who gave Joffrey the poisoned wine, but what they did not do is give a viable alternative."

Tywin nodded in agreement, "I agree, there is limited evidence to suggest that Tyrion was the poisoner, but he seems the only one who could have done it."

Stannis looked between them both. "So what we are all saying is that we think he is responsible for poisoning Joffrey, but there is just no proof to say that it actually was him."

Jasper nodded, that was the truth of it. But what verdict should he give out. He did not want to give a false judgement, but he could ill afford to keep the investigation going forever. A point that Tywin voiced at that moment. "Your Grace, people believe that Tyrion is guilty, the evidence would seem to suggest that and the king died, someone has to die in response to that."

"The right man has to die in response to that", Stannis declared. "The King cannot kill a man simply because someone has to die, the right someone has to die, or he is no true king."

"The court is overcrowded", Tywin said, "your decree ordering all those at the high table of the wedding to remain in the city was a wise one to be sure", he continued, looking intently at Jasper, "but they were high lords, and lesser lords have stayed with them, they must leave soon, or there will be deaths. The Reacher lords and Dornish lords in particular are at each other's throats."

Jasper rubbed his face wearily. "It seems that there is only one way to get a definitive answer to whether or not Tyrion did kill Joffrey. Trial by Combat."

Stannis nodded, and even Tywin did so after a few seconds, the truth was that there was simply no other way to determine Tyrion's guilt to such a degree as to have him executed.

So they made their way into the throne room and, everyone standing when Jasper entered and taking their seats when Jasper took his. "After careful deliberation with my fellow judges", he declared, "a decision has been made." He took a deep breath and looked at the sea of eyes staring at him. "There is insufficient evidence to either clear or convict the accused of the crime of regicide. It shall be left in the hands of the gods. The guilt of the accused is to be determined by trial by combat."


	56. ASOS Tyrion V

_A/N: I do apologise for the delay, I know how annoying they can be, but I was having some serious trouble with a chapter I was writing later on. Also me and some friends each decided to write an essay on who we think is most likely to win the Iron Throne and why in the end, and writing roughly nine thousand words about Stannis Baratheon was not easy or quick to do, particularly when there was so much to cover. By my reckoning, the next chapter should be out tomorrow. It is a chapter that includes a fight scene and is the first one in a multi chapter battle, one I have been looking forward to posting for a while._

_Again, sincerely sorry for the wait._

Tyrion was in his cell, despondent following the results of the trial. He was not sure what to think of them. The fact that Jasper had needed to resort to Trial by Combat meant that there was not enough evidence to convict him. However it also meant that there was not enough to exonerate him either. Jasper might as well have just declared him guilty then and there, Jaime had told him who his dear sister intended to name as her champion, Ser Gregor Clegane, the Mountain who rides. Who would fight for him against such a foe, his brother would have, that much Tyrion was certain of, but now, with his hand gone, Jaime could not help him. Perhaps, in another time, Jasper himself would have done so, but not any more, the new Lord Commander Beric Storm, or some of the other Kingsguard, Ser Rolland Storm or Ser Balon Swann, he had heard good things of them, maybe they could defeat the Mountain, but they had no reason to volunteer themselves for his sakes. Tyrion paced his cell, he could not make a public appeal for someone to help him from the cell, not that it would mean much, the Mountain"s mere reputation would probably be enough to dissuade any sellswords who could do so. He hated when he could not control things, but now he was relying on the goodness of someone's heart, worse, goodness that extended beyond his sister's gold.

No, he was well and truly fucked, he was dead, that much was true. Tyrion sat back and thought about Jasper. He had always liked him most amongst Cersei's children, Tommen and Myrcella were sweet, but they were the sort of people everyone liked, Jasper had earned Tyrion's goodwill and yet Jasper had taken from Tyrion far more than Joffrey had. Joffrey had given Tyrion a scar across his face, that much was true, but Jasper had lost him Casterly Rock, by removing Jaime's cloak, and now lost him his life, by declaring a trial by combat. He sat down, he truly did not know how to proceed, and that was a first for Tyrion, he always knew how to proceed, usually by using his tongue or his brother's sword, but now Jaime had lost his sword hand and his tongue could not defeat the mountain.

But Tyrion still respected that Jasper had done the trial fairly, had his father been presiding, Tyrion had no doubt that he would have lost his head by this point. So Jasper had bought him a few more days of life, but a few more days knowing you will die are not necessarily good days.

Throughout the trial, Tyrion had shot many looks at Cersei, her hatred was clear, the arrogance and surety that he was the guilty party in the murder of her vicious bastard had made him want to explode at her, but he kept his mouth shut, thinking that it would be bad for him if he said what he truly wanted to say.

Then the door opened and Tyrion turned, highly surprised that it was Cersei who had entered, one of the Kingsguard behind her, as opposed to the Lannister swords who usually accompanied her. "You can remain outside, Ser Guyard", she said with disdain, clearly not comfortable with the new Kingsguard, the loyal ones rather than the political appointments.

"His grace instructed me to be here", the knight replied, "he said it would not do well for you two to kill each other."

Tyrion could not help but agree with the sentiment, for that would be very likely if they were together. But Cersei would not need to, for his fate had already been sealed by her second son. Tyrion then wondered if Cersei was finally proud of Jasper.

"How can I help you sweet sister?" Tyrion asked, sitting down on a bench, as she sat down on another.

"I was just curious", Cersei replied, "if you still think that you have a chance of escaping justice."

"Justice, for what crime?" Tyrion asked her, "I did not kill your son! Are you truly so blind so as to allow the true culprit to escape so you can satiate your desire for my head?"

"You murdered my son, the king, you will not escape from that crime", she had a snarl on her face that was unbecoming of a queen.

Tyrion knew it was pointless to argue with Cersei in this state, she loved Joffrey, possibly and probably even more so than she loved Jaime, that was her one redeeming feature, her beauty was not what it once was, she had begun to waste away a little since Joffrey's death, her stomach had grown a little, not much, she was still able to wear the same dresses as before. But still, her hatred made his own writhe within him. He forgot that Ser Guyard was in the room when he said what he said next.

"Your bastard was no king, he took a crown that he thought was his but in reality it belonged to the man currently wearing it. Your inability to take the seed of your husband and instead take Jaime's brought blood to Jasper's kingdoms. You blame me for your bastard's murder, when in reality you should thank the one responsible. But it is not me!" Cersei looked horrified and turned her head towards Ser Guyard, and Tyrion realised what he had done, if the knight reported what he had said to Jasper, Jaime's life could be forfeit.

Cersei realised this as well it seemed, both that and that her own would be forfeit along with him. So she did the first thing she could think of it seemed, she seized him by the front of his tunic, and smacked him four times as hard as she could. Tyrion's cheeks stung, both of them, and very much so, but it was a price he would pay for Jaime's life. "How dare you!" She hissed, "how dare you say such things, such… such filth! Jasper will hear of this." She stormed from the room and Tyrion breathed a sigh of relief when Guyard followed her, apparently convinced by her display, he had the redness on his cheeks to say so.

He lay back down on his bed, he would hear soon enough if Jasper believed what he had said.

Jasper himself did enter the cell later, and he did not look to be in a good mood, his face was cold and hard as Casterly Rock itself, his sword at his hip seemed to be like a viper, hidden inside it's scabbard but waiting, waiting for a chance to be unleashed, the way Jasper's thumb caressed the pommel did not fill him full of hope. He swallowed a little, no doubt Jasper had heard what he had said, Cersei had, after all, declared that she would inform him, the only thing that mattered, was whether or not Jasper believed it. He had entered alone, none of his white cloaks stood at his shoulder, just himself and High Justice, more than enough to kill Tyrion on the spot if he wanted to. "What you said to my mother", Jasper said, his voice completely void of emotion and his eyes full of suspicion. "Was it true? Was Joffrey Jaime's son? Are Tommen and Myrcella?"

Tyrion hoped like he had never hoped in his life, even when facing down Renly's army he had not been hoping as much as he was now. He hoped that his lie would pass, if not, he was a dead man, not that he was anything but a deadman anyway, but he would rather die for one crime than two.

"No", he replied to his nephew, looking his straight in the eyes, he knew that if his gaze wavered for even a second, Jasper would know the truth. "It was a lie said in anger."

Jasper scrutinised him, his eyes boring into him like moles through the earth and Tyrion tried to keep his breathing steady and his hands still. Then the young king nodded. "Good", he said, taking a seat on one of the two benches. He looked relieved, which was good for Tyrion and Jaime anyway. It seemed that Jasper did not want to believe it, so he took him at his word on that account. Now he just had to make sure that Jasper never found out, or if he did, never found out that he knew of it. "The trial by combat will not be long", Jasper said, "have you decided upon a champion?"

Tyrion raised his eyebrows at his nephew. "How could I?" He asked him, and the king looked confused. "I have been locked in here."

Jasper still looked confused. "Did your squire not come to you?" He asked, "I thought he would have done, I thought he would have sought out a candidate for you."

Tyrion shook his head. "No such thing has happened."

"I see", Jasper said knocking. Then he looked at the door quickly. When he spoke, it was in a low voice. "As a judge, I cannot discuss the trial with you", he said, "you understand, whilst I have been in here, I have been discussing hairstyles in the capital, asking you for advice with women but we were not discussing the trial, nor did I say anything about it."

Tyrion nodded, his breath hitching. Was Jasper just about to do something?

"I would not do for you to not have a champion to defend your case against Ser Gregor, it would be unfair and unseemly of me to permit. If, by some chance", he continued, throwing another look at the door. Tyrion did not know why he bothered, Jasper's Kingsguard were not the Kingsguard of Robert, they were his, and only his, they would tell no tales. Probably he was just nervous and conflicted, for to help him would be against al custom of trials. Maybe Jasper would save his life yet. "If by some chance", he repeated, "a certain man, who has wanted Ser Gregor dead for many years, was to appear at your cell later on, and you were to ask, or he was to offer, his services as your champion, then that would be a lucky coincidence for all. I would not have to preside over an unfair trial by combat, and you would have a chance of survival." He looked once more at the door. "So, there would be no rumours of my involvement coming from your mouth, would there? You would not dare say that the king intervened on your behalf, coming out from his impartiality as the presiding judge?"

"None your grace", Tyrion replied, breathlessly, "no rumours would come from me."

Jasper nodded and then, without saying another word, he swept from the room.

Tyrion lay down, but he could not rest, his salvation may just be coming to save him. He wondered who Jasper had in mind.

There was a knock at his door and Tyrion called out weakly for whoever it was to open the door. He looked through a crack in his eyelids and saw a giant of a man enter. Of course, most people were tall to Tyrion, but this man was very big indeed, not quite as big as the mountain, but still very tall. Then Tyrion's eyes adjusted to the light that had come through the door and he saw a patchwork of burn scars across his face. Jasper had sent him the Mountain's brother, the Hound.

"Little man", the Hound said, gruff as usual. "Lord Commander Beric Storm said you wanted to speak to me."

"Yes", Tyrion replied, swinging his legs over and sitting up. There was no need to beat around the bush with the Hound, it would only make him less likely to accept his proposal, and then he would be truly fucked. "You hate your brother, you want him dead", the Hound's face did not move. "I want my life. Fight as my champion, and we both get what we want."

It was blunt and to the point, and Tyrion could tell, based on the look on the Hound's face, that he accepted that and was pleased for it. "Very true", the Hound said simply. He had less than two seconds of silence before he gave his answer. "I accept, I will fight as your champion, and I will kill my brother."

Tyrion breathed a sigh of relief. He had been wrong, Jasper had not condemned him, he had saved his life. He would have to repay that debt one day. He would find a way.

If the Hound could kill his brother, that is.


	57. ASOS Victarion IV

_A/N: eddys - I used Dowager Queen because in the Dance of the Dragons, Alicent Hightower, mother of Aegon II, was called Dowager Queen Alicent, whether they use Queen Mother in Westeros I have no idea. As for Brienne, she is still in the Storm's End dungeons at this point._

_Here is the first part of the Battle of the Redwyne Straits, told from the view of the new Iron King. Enjoy._

Victarion's axe was in his hand, being held tightly in his grip as the Iron Fleet descended on the remaining Redwyne ships in the Redwyne Straights. He saw the large number of tents on the shore, primarily were the rose of Tyrell and the huntsman of Tarly. However they should not be a threat to him, for he was on the sea. The only supposed threat came from the Redwyne ships, however, he could see how many ships there were, and thirty four ships would not be sufficient to stop the one hundred ships of the Iron Fleet. He had decided against using the captured and newly built ships in the battle, for he remembered well the lessons of Fair Isle. Leading all his ships into straights was asking for the entire fleet to be destroyed, this way, he still had a strong reserve of forty or so warships to replace any losses he would suffer in this battle.

His ships had been divided into three wedges of ships, he was leading the centre wedge with his _Iron Victory_, leading the other two wedges were Ralph Kenning and Wulf One-Ear. The plan was to scythe through the Redwyne ships and take or sink them, then they would prepare to face the near immediate arrival of the Royal Fleet under Ser Davos Seaworth.

Rocks fell into the sea around them, one of them smashing through the decks of the _Grief_, sending the Ironborn in it to the Drowned God. That was the difference between the Greenlander ships and the Ironborn, they fought with catapults and arrows, the Ironborn, whilst using arrows, preferred to grapple and board the enemy ships, allowing them to battle with axe and sword. "Ready the grapples!" He called as they approached the first enemy ship. A three decked war dromond, with a scorpion positioned on the deck, and aiming at them. Victarion ducked as the scorpion's bolt passed too close to him for comfort. "Now", he roared as they got side by side with the enemy ship, his prow carving through the oars of their ship as his men hurled grapples and hooks across the gap connecting the two ships.

As was right of him, Victarion led the way, leaping across and sinking his axe into the wood of the enemy ship before scrambling up the side of it. The first crewman he met was a terrified oarsman, armed only with a knife which was still sheathed, Victarion did not bloody his axe, simply seizing him and pulling him over the edge of the ship and into the waters of the Redwyne straights, screaming. The next man was different only in the fact that he had his knife out, but Victarion's axe found a new home in his chest before he could use it. Wrenching it free, Victarion saw his men swarming over the Redwyne ship, the few defenders who had any skill fell before their axes, outnumbered and less armoured. That was a mistake of the Greenlanders, they feared drowning, the Ironborn had no fear of going to their god, which was why Victarion wore plate mail and most others wore at least partial plate. Often the Greenlanders restricted themselves to boiled leather with perhaps a little bit of chain mail and scale armour.

Coming up to the other side of the ship to the _Iron Victory_, was another Redwyne ship, this one a war galley, so slightly lower in the sea than the dromond they were on. Victarion, seeing his chance, raced over to the main mast of the dromond, hacking at it until the wood began to splinter. He then stepped back and charged, ramming his armoured shoulder into the mast, knocking it over towards the war galley, smashing it's own mast into splinters and slamming into the deck of the ship itself. Victarion had never been more proud than when he saw his men charging down the precarious bridge onto the galley, slaughtering the crewmen before raising the Greyjoy flag.

"Back to the Victory!" He called out to his men aboard the dromond and one of his lieutenants repeated the command to those who had taken the Galley, he would leave these ships as husks as he wiped out the rest of the fleet, then he would return for what was his.

The surety of the _Iron Victory's _hull felt good beneath Victarion's plate boots. He moved swiftly to the prow of the ship as the fleet pressed onwards, he could see his ships overpowering the Redwyne ships, only the three four decked warships holding out against them, their archers and catapults holding back the Ironborn. Victarion indicated for his men to set course for the ship, and the _Iron Victory_ stormed ahead, grapples being prepared. Arrows from the ship thudded into the deck of the _Iron Victory_ and clinked off Victarion's armour. One of his crew took an arrow to the leg and went down whilst another was pierced in the chest and stumbled over the edge of the ship and into the raging waters of the Redwyne Straits. Once more he led his men into battle, scaling the side of the four decked dromond amongst the arrows and crossbow bolts that were raining down amongst them. He buried his axe in the head of a crossbowman as soon as he was within reach, pulling himself over the edge of the ship. Another arrow deflected off his breast plate, and Victarion was glad that it was an arrow, not a crossbow bolt, a crossbow bolt would have pierced his armour fully, and Victarion had no intention of dying here.

This crew, to his delight, were far more organised than the last, the crossbowmen and archers were loosing their last bolts and arrows and taking up spear and sword and axe. Heavily armoured knights were standing patiently, ready to repel the Ironborn. Victarion noted the one with a blood red surcoat with a bull's skull, and charged at him as his reavers attacked the rest of the crew. Victarion leapt forward, his axe connecting with the good castle forged steel longsword of the knight. The knight struck three times. The first time, Victarion deflected the blade with the head of his axe, the second he knocked it aside with the handle and the third time he raised his shield to block it. Victarion went for a wide slash, seeking to open the knight's stomach, but the knight drew away, moving back in so swiftly that Victarion would almost certainly have been caught on the end of his sword had the deck not heaved and both of them crashed to the floor.

He scrambled to his feet, axe and shield ready, this time he would be better, he attacked with an overhead blow, seeking to split his head like a melon, but the knight moved to the side and spun, his sword clanging off Victarion's helmet. Seeing his chance, Victarion slammed his shield into the knight, sending him sprawling to the deck. Rushing forward, he brought his axe down once more, but the knight was just able to roll to the side, meaning that Victarion's blow, which would have shattered mail and bone, instead splintered wooden planks. Worse, the axe was now buried in the wood, and the knight was thrusting at him once more. He sidestepped the thrust, and seized him by the wrist. He wrenched the sword from his hand and spun it in his grip. He did not like swords, he much preferred his heavy battle axe, but they served their purpose. Victarion nodded in glee when, instead of submitting meekly, as many would, the knight instead drew a dagger and slashed three times at Victarion, forcing him back as he tried to get used to the lighter sword. Then the knight dropped the dagger and wrenched Victarion's axe out of the deck, holding it before him. Both paused, uncomfortable with the weapons they held. The knight crouched low, resting the axe, main blade down, against the wood of the deck. Victarion knew what he was suggesting, and did the same with the sword. Both pushed the weapons forward and reclaimed their blade of choice. Then they attacked again.

Victarion had not had such a good fight in the whole war. Whoever this knight was, he was skilled and brave, both traits he could respect in a foe. With his trusted axe in hand, he would triumph. He launched himself at the knight, who stepped backwards, holding his sword up in a defensive posture, although it was futile to try and block such an attempt. The knight tried, once more, to attack Victarion, but the Iron King's steel plated back prevented him from coming to harm. Instead he slashed again, and the knight struggled to get out of the way. But he managed, and regained his form.

One of Victarion's reavers came rushing up from behind the knight, and Victarion almost bellowed out loud, this was his fight, his kill, and his opponent should have the honour of seeing his killer. But he need not have worried, the knight either heard or sensed it, and ducked low, thrusting his sword back into the reaver. When he pulled it out it was covered in blood. "You will be next Kraken", he declared, giving a few strokes through the air, "Ser Jonothor Bulwer is the name of your doom."

_Bulwer_, Victarion noted, and knew now why the man fought so hard. The Bulwers were the lords of Blackcrown, Yara had taken Blackcrown early on in the war. "Victarion Greyjoy is yours Ser Jonothor", he replied, and attacked once more. His axe sang as it rent the air. Ser Jonthor"s sword sang as it hit Victarion's plate. The knight backpedalled and two more of Victarion's reavers attacked him. The knight took the arm off one at the elbow, he then knocked the axe of the other aside and cut his head in half at the ears, brains, blood and bone scattering across the deck, before returning to the newly half-armed one and thrusting his sword through the man's ribs. _Had he been born on the Iron Islands_, Victarion noted, _he would be the most celebrated of reavers_. But he was not, and he would die at Victarion's hand. They charged each other once more, both eager to kill the other. Victarion thought that his men must have eliminated the other men on the ship, otherwise they would not be attacking Ser Jonothor.

Ser Jonothor struck for Victarion's side in an awkward place for Victarion to block, he them kicked Victarion hard in the gut, sending him staggering backwards. But then he made his mistake, the boy struck at him with a sideways slash that, if it connected would have killed him. But Victarion caught Ser Jonothor's wrist and held it fast before he could. He then raised his axe and brought it down hard into Ser Jonothor's chest. He never looked afraid, this knight had lost all thought of fear long ago, he could see it in his eyes when he wrenched off his helm. He had only cold fury. His last act was to spit blood into Victarion's face. Victarion smiled, he was true to the end, if he had a crew of such men, the world would be his. But his reavers were more than sufficient for Ironborn freedom.

It turns out he was right, Ser Jonothor was the last man to stand against the Ironborn, the others had all died or surrendered. Victarion had no sympathy for those who had surrendered, they should have followed the example of their knight.

"Lord Captain!" It was a rather desperate sounding call from one of his reavers, so he went to him, he was facing the south east of the Straits, the opposite direction from where the Iron Fleet had come. When he got to the stern of the ship, Victarion saw why the man had sounded desperate.

The longships from the Arbor had joined in the battle, attacking some of the Redwyne ships behind this big flagship. But behind them were a large number of sails bearing the crowned Stag of House Baratheon.

The Royal Fleet had come.


	58. ASOS Davos III

_A/N: Okay, so the reason that I have cut Daenerys out so far but kept Victarion in, is that Daenerys' storyline is, as near as makes no difference, exactly the same as in the canon. I didn't want to just describe what the Greyjoys were doing in the war as a side note and second hand reports, given how I have diverged from the canon material here. So sorry to those of you who don't like Victarion or his chapters, I really am, but I can only hope you don't stop reading because of it._

Davos breathed in the air of the Redwyne Straits. It had been years since he had been in these waters, the people of the Reach were always far less accommodating to smugglers than those in King's Landing, so he had less business here. After that, as a landed knight, he had no reason to come here when he could stay at home with his wife and sons. That meant the last time had had come here had also been with the Royal Fleet, when he had sailed under the command of Lord Stannis to defeat the Greyjoy Fleet. Now he was doing so once more, except this time, he was leading the Royal Fleet to war.

Davos was nervous at first, not at his ability to command the fleet, Stannis knew enough to give him command, so he must have been capable. Nor was he nervous about the battle, the remnants of the Redywne Fleet had done a superb job, and were still doing a superb job of making sure that the Iron Fleet was locked in combat, disorganised and as such unable to react to Davos_'_ ships descending upon them. No he was worried about the loyalty of the captains under him. Aurane Waters, Lord Monford and Lord Velaryon in particular had been very vocal about their opposition to his command. Only Stannis' personal intervention had secured their loyalty, but Davos knew enough to say that it was wholly dependent upon him winning battles. One loss, and they would set themselves up as rival admirals, the fleet would split amongst loyalties and the Ironborn would rule the waves. However, the advantage in the battle was his, Davos saw from the deck of the _Fury_. Stannis' ship, having delegated command of his ship _Black Betha_ to his third son Mathos.

"Half sails!_"_ He called out and his fourth son, Maric, repeated the order, yelling it to the crewmen. Half sails were better for battle since they allowed greater manoeuvrability, particularly in the closeness of the Redwyne Straits. The _Fury_ was almost equipped specifically to deal with the Ironborn, for the deck was covered in scorpions, this was not a ship to board and grapple with other ships, but the scorpions could punch holes through the low bottomed Ironborn Longships, even the larger ones of the Iron Fleet could be defeated by the scorpions. _"_Ready scorpions_"_, he commanded, as Maric repeated the order the men loaded the long bolts into the scorpions so that they could be fired down upon the Iron ships. However, it seemed that their first kill would not be the result of the scorpions, but of sheer mass, as the _Fury_ trampled over a small Ironborn longship, sending the Ironmen into the water to drown. Davos looked behind him to the Royal Fleet in formation, the _Fury_ was leading the way whilst the rest of the fleet fell in behind it and to the sides. The _Fury_ pressed onwards, carving through the seas, until it was in the middle of a large group of longships. _"_Fire!_"_ Davos ordered and his scorpions shot their bolts, piercing the enemy ships and sails, crippling them and sinking some. Davos smiled at the success of his crew, looking around, he saw archers firing at the longships whilst more scorpions lay about them as well. Davos turned his attention to the nearest ship of the Iron Fleet. Long and powerful, it was coming up to the side of their own ship. _"_Arms!_"_ He called out and his men picked up spear, sword and bow, _"_Arms!_"_

Davos retrieved his own sword, but in truth he was hoping for his men to be able to deal with the enemy. He had never been the most skilled with a sword, he had to learn a little, for even smugglers sometimes had to grapple with authority, but it was self teaching, and he fought to get away, not to kill. He was in luck, for his archers leant over the edge of the ship and were picking off the Ironborn as they clambered aboard the _Fury_. His ship had to halt at that point, for the Longships were circling it, firing arrows aboard it. _"_Cover!_"_ He called and held up his shield. _"_Someone destroy those longships!_"_ Tentatively, some of his men tried to aim their scorpions, but the first man who tried fell back with an arrow through his neck, the second took an arrow to his forehead, blood leaking out of them and covering the planks of the deck. Eventually though, his men were able to start firing back.

But it was then that Maric called out to him, _"_father!_"_ Davos looked over and Devan, holding his own shield up to cover him, pointed to the right hand side of the ship. Davos looked over there and cursed. The squadron he had placed under Aurane Waters_'_ command was rushing ahead, twelve ships throwing themselves into the jaws of the Iron Fleet. On the other side, the squadron of Lord Monford was doing the same. He cursed again. They had seen his ship in trouble and, instead of coming to its aid, they had rushed on ahead, seeking glory and prestige. They would get neither. Partly because Davos would make sure that Stannis heard of it, but mostly because both squadrons had Ironborn ships closing around them like pincers. They were not paying attention, so visual flag signals would not reach them, but the beating of drums would not be heard over the sound of the battle. He cursed for a final time when flaming arrows began raining on their ships.

"Snuff those flames!_"_ Davos roared, _"_and someone get those ships under control_"_. Maric rushed over to the right and blew his warhorn in an effort to garner the attention of Bastard Waters, on the other side, flags were being used to try and draw the attention of Lord Monford. But neither appeared to have any success, Maric_'_s horn was drowned out by the sounds of crashing waves, ships and steel. Even as they failed to gain control of his ships, more of his crewmen were throwing wet rags over the arrows, or plucking them from the deck and throwing them over the edge of the ship.

He rushed to the prow of the ship, ahead of the _Fury_ were two ships of the Ironborn, one of them was a captured two decked dromond flying the golden kraken flag atop it's mast, the other was a large longship, one of the ships of the Iron Fleet. Both of them were damaged, the captured ship_'_s sails were aflame, and the wood of the longship was splintering at the side and prow. They were on their last legs, but Davos could not help but credit the Ironborn, they were doing everything they could to save the ships. It would not be enough. Davos rushed back to the captain_'_s place on the ship. _"_Full sails_"_, he called out, and he watched as his crew swiftly and efficiently dropped the sails and the wind caught them, sending the _Fury_ speeding forward. They smashed into the two ships: The longship, already weakened, splintered apart armoured figures cascading down the now broken deck and into the writhing straits; the dromond was knocked aside, knocking everyone on board it off their feet. _"_Torch it!_"_ A dozen torches were thrown onto the ship by his crew, sending it up in flames like the sails already were. Davos could not help but credit their bravery, if one of his ships had gone up in flames, his men would be leaping over the edge into the straits to escape the fire, but not them, they stayed to save the ship or go down with it.

After smashing through the two Ironborn ships, a squadron of his ships coming in behind him, the _Fury_ broke apart another ship, half submerged, that Davos could not tell which side it belonged to, or even what kind of ship it was. He ordered the sails be reduced again, putting the _Fury_ into it's main position, at range, using it_'_s scorpions to attack the enemy. He looked over his shoulder at the wreckages behind him. It was mostly the small Ironborn longships, with a few larger longships and captured warships, the hard heart of Ironborn strength was ahead of him still, but they were also disorganised and in no position to be attacking him any time soon.

However, the Ironborn skill at sea was not to be disregarded, as Davos saw to the feeling of his heart sinking into his stomach. Aurane Waters_"_ squadron of a dozen strong warships was surrounded by the Ironborn, they had rushed too far ahead and now reavers and flames were swarming over them. They were so far ahead that Davos could not divert to save them, for longships prowled the waters in between, looking for victims and battle. He looked to the left, Lord Monford's position was only slightly better, for he was trying to pull his ships back from a similar encirclement, but of the fourteen ships he had taken with him on his suicidal charge, only three had a chance of escaping the Ironborn encirclement, and Lord Monford's flagship was not amongst them. Indeed Davos could see it above the flags and masts of the Ironborn longships, still afloat, although, since it was surrounded it probably didn_'_t have long left. This was especially true when you consider that Lord Monford_'_s ship was more designed for close quarters than the _Fury_, it had fewer scorpions than Stannis' ship, and close quarters was where the Ironborn ruled, had always ruled on the seas.

Davos turned once more to the back of the ship and he saw that the Royal Fleet had scythed through the Ironborn ships at the south-east entrance to the Redwyne Straits, and that, despite the losses suffered, mostly in the two Velaryon Squadrons, Lord Monfrod Velaryon_'_s and his bastard brother Aurane Waters_'_, they had the advantage.

Unless the Iron King made a strong play now, Davos knew he could punch through the Iron Fleet and end their rebellion now.

"Full speed on the oars!_"_


	59. ASOS Victarion V

He seized the throat of the boarder. He watched the life of the man drain from his eyes before throwing him overboard. He would not have thought that the Royal Fleet's ships would be so eager to get to grips with him that they would board his ship. But it saved him the trouble of doing so to them. The next man to charge him felt Victarion"s fist as he punched him in the gut, before splitting his head like a melon. Victarion now held his axe in a two handed grip, his shield had finally shattered under the blow of a mace, after the beating it had taken from Ser Jonothor, it was unsurprising that he had lost. Victarion moved to the centre of his ship, amongst the swirling melee of men. There he would be more of an inspiration for his men, and it lessened the danger that he was going to be thrown overboard, and Victarion was not going to die here. Then two more came at him. Victarion stepped to the right and hammered down with his axe, the boarder of House Velaryon dodging backwards out of range. The next one tried to stab him, but Victarion caught the spear and yanked it out of the man's grip, he looked at his now empty hands, clearly unsure what to do. Victarion flipped the spear around and was about to impale it's previous owner, but noticed that the first of his two opponents was rushing towards him, so Victarion crouched and thrust at him, driving the spear through his stomach and doubling him over. Using all the strength in his left arm, Victarion pushed the man forwards and then, taking hold of his axe with both hands, he buried it into the chest of the second opponent, splitting the rib cage like so many twigs. The next boarder fell when Victarion broke his nose with the handle of his axe and then swung his axe down and decapitated him when he was crawling on the deck. Most of the boarders were fleeing back aboard the ship they came from, so Victarion gave the order to cast away. He was loathe to do so, but he needed to see the progress of the Royal Fleet and he needed some distance in order to see that.

When they got a distance away, Victarion watched in partial glee, partial anger as the Royal ships began to burn. The glee was that more than twenty ships of the Royal Fleet, including two of the three decked war galleys, although neither of them were the Fury, the true prize, which Victarion hoped to claim himself. The anger came because his captains had just turned the tide against them, with the ships in flames, the Royal Fleet could not be flanked any longer, the burning wrecks were in the way, this meant that the Iron Fleet could only defeat them in a frontal assault, and there was no chance of that happening, he needed to be able to flank the Royal Fleet in order to sink their ships and throw them into disarray. Reluctantly, Victarion knew he had to give the order to retreat. "Harren!" He called, and Harren Pyke rushed over to him. "Order the retreat, all ships must leave."

"Yes Lord Captain!" Harren replied.

As he turned to do so, Victarion grabbed his wrist. "Tell Ralph that he is to cover our retreat with his squadron and then follow on after us."

"With fire or iron my king? Harren asked, and Victarion gritted his teeth, he knew that the word he told Harren would determine the end of the battle. He cast another look around, the rashness of the advance squadrons of the Royal Fleet had allowed him to cripple them, even now, the largest of the ships that had advanced ahead was floundering and taking on water, its crew doing everything in their power to keep the ship afloat, or they were leaping overboard and trying to swim to other ships. Either way they were doomed.

However, looking at the main force of the Royal Fleet, he could tell that they were not going to break cohesion and allow him to pick them off piece by piece, he needed to pull back from the Redwyne straits, face the Royal Fleet on his terms when he was ready for them. "Fire", he told Harren bitterly. He hoped that the Drowned God would welcome Ralph and all his reavers with open arms into his halls.

Harren nodded and rushed over to the flags and drummers. Victarion snarled and looked over the battle. Of the thirty or so Redwyne ships that began the battle, twenty four were either in flames, half submerged in water or flying the Kraken flag. He would not have the time to get enough men to crew those ships, so they would have to torch them so as to increase the speed of the main fleet. Victarion ordered his ship turned and his men, ever faithful and obedient did so. Such was the skill and co-ordination of the Iron Fleet, Victarion saw that the nearest ships, apart from those in Ralph's squadron, were making the turn as well. He felt a surge of pride in his captains, even in the glorious swirl of the chaos of battle, his men followed his orders.

However, looking out over the prow of his ship, he saw that there was still one ship in his path. A small galley of the Redwyne's, normally he would order it be boarded so he could slake his axe with the blood of the crew and claim the ship for the Iron Fleet, but he had no time, instead, he simply gripped the railing tightly as his ship ploughed through it like a battering ram through a splintered gate.

He rushed to the stern of the ship, wanting to make sure that his ship was amongst the last to retreat. If he was the absolute last, his captains may double back to try and save him, something that neither he nor the Ironborn could well afford. If he was the very first, he would be deemed a coward. "Slow down!" He called out to his rowers and they did just that. The sight of smouldering ships of the Royal Fleet made his lips curl into a smile. But he was not done yet, he had to count his losses and then make ready to face the Royal Fleet again.

Victarion watched as Ralph's squadron lined itself up across the straits, firing flaming arrows at the Royal Fleet as they did so, Victarion gritted his teeth once more, for he knew what would happen next. He felt wetness flow down his face and reached up to brush a tear away, it would not do for his men to see him cry like a newborn Greenlander, but he could not help himself. Especially when he saw Ralph's squadron, two dozen ships, the smallest of his main battle squadrons, set ablaze, creating a flaming barricade that should, especially when combined with the smaller longships that refused to run, hold the Royal Fleet up long enough for him to reach the Shield Islands, where he could collect some ships to recoup some of his losses, before turning to fight the Royal Fleet again.

The Royal Fleet was Victorious this day, but the war was not won yet, and Victarion Greyjoy would have his revenge.


	60. ASOS Jasper VII

"Your Grace." Jasper looked up to see a servant approaching him, a letter in hand. "The Grand Maester asked me to bring you this." Jasper took the letter and, knowing what this one was about, he did not put it on the growing pile of letters and documents on his right, but put it on his left, next to the crown. Then he took up his quill and finished writing his letter naming House Seaworth to the Lordship of Dragonstone for services rendered during the war. He had already transferred his lordship of Storm's End to Stannis and his descendants, for no king could be a Lord Paramount as well, the high lords would never accept it for long. He would present the document to Davos if the Onion Knight could win one last victory over the Iron Fleet and thus allow the Lannister and Tyrell hosts, supplemented by men of the Riverlands, to subjugate the Iron Islands once more. He finished the letter, affixed his seal to it and then put it aside. He took up the newly arrived letter, slit it open, and read it over. Nodding, he pulled the list over and etched the word granite onto it, at the bottom of a list of other materials, gold, sandstone, marble, basalt, limestone and chalk already on it. He just needed one more rock and then he would be done, but he could not get it yet. So he put the paper into the drawer, closing it again.

Next he read over a report from Ser Davos about the Battle of the Redwyne Straits. It had forced the Ironborn back from the Arbor, Lord Tarly's men had recovered it from the Island, Ser Davos' son Allard's ship had captured Yara Greyjoy, King Victarion's uncle. The Iron Fleet had suffered the same number of ships lost as the Royal Fleet, around forty warships sunk and burned, however, given that the Iron Fleet had around half the strength of the Royal Fleet, it meant that it was a major victory for his fleet, and the Ironborn were on the verge of defeat, but they were not out yet. Ser Davos would have to be careful, never take an Ironborn for granted at sea.

Jasper leant back in his chair, stretching his arms into the air. He was glad there was no council meeting today, however the reason for that was that Tyrion's trial by combat was to take place that afternoon. Many had often wondered what would happen should the Hound and the Mountain clash, now they would get the answer to their questions. Judging by the angle of the sun it would take place shortly. But Jasper did not need to be there on time, he was to watch over the trial, they would send someone for him if he was running late, he was sure. He flexed his fingers and pulled the next document towards him, a letter from the Wall informing them that, whilst the Crownlands forces stationed there have been causing no problems, they are starting to run low on weapons. Jasper set the parchment aside to bring to the next council meeting and then quickly scratched out a command for the numbers of weapons left over from the dead during the battle of King's Landing to be counted. If necessary, he could send them to the Wall.

Then the door opened and Jasper looked up, smiling when he saw his queen, a silver tiara on her head, enter through the door. Arya had only started wearing it recently, when Jasper told her that it would keep her safe, and when he had found a design that weighed nothing and meant she could still fight with it. "Arya", Jasper said, sitting back, "are you here to save me from the monster of documents", he indicated the pile he was slowly making his way through.

"No such luck", Arya replied, Jasper noted that her hand was wrapped around the handle of Needle, which she still insisted on wearing. "I am just trying to escape from some noble ladies. I swear some of the Tyrells are following me."

Jasper smiled again, "they will do that", he told her, and she made her way around the desk. He pushed his chair out so that he was facing her. "I didn't think it would bother you."

"It doesn't", she replied snobbishly, which made Jasper give a slight laugh.

He pulled her into his lap and kissed her neck softly. "Do not worry about them, if you want them to stop just tell them so. You are queen, they will obey you."

Arya made a grimace, nestled further back into Jasper's lap, and replied, "I could, or I could kill them."

"Then I would have to object", Jasper replied.

Arya leant back and rested on him, Jasper wrapped his arms around her and pulled her into him. They stayed like that, simply resting for some time. Arya traced her hand back, her fingers trailing along his thigh until they approached his cock. Jasper growled a little as she closed her fingers around it. Arya's eyes opened and she smiled at him mischievously. "Would you object to this?"

Jasper stood up, span Arya around and kissed her fiercely, pushing her back against the nearby stone wall. She gasped as Jasper began unlacing her light flowing tunic and throwing it to the floor. "I object most fiercely", he told her briefly, before kissing her once more. She replied, by running her hands through his hair and gripping and tugging at it lightly. Jasper seized her, lifting her in the air and moving out of his solar and into the bedroom. He almost threw her on the bed. Arya pulled him down by his tunic. But Jasper pulled it over his head and threw it aside.

Arya reached out and began to unlace his breeches, but Jasper batted her hands aside, doing so himself. It was habitual for him now, ever since hearing the tale of the Red Kraken, and him being killed by a girl called Tess in his bed, he always removed his own clothes. He reasoned that it was far easier for someone to slip a knife between his ribs when they were taking his clothes off, rather than when they had already taken their own off. It was not that he did not trust Arya, but it was simply how he did things now.

He finished pulling them off him as Arya finished taking off her own clothes, leaving her naked on their bed, her soft pale skin glinting in the light. Jasper trailed his fingers up her side, cupping her breast in his hand. Arya whimpered slightly, and lay back on the bed, enticing him with a sharp and devious smile, Jasper moved up Arya's body and began kissing her fiercely. Arya reached down and directed his cock inside her, causing Jasper to moan and herself to sigh with pleasure. Instinctively, Jasper thrust into her, grunting as he forced himself deeper into her warm sheath. They may make love almost every night, but Jasper never stopped loving the pleasure he got from her. Arya gripped his shoulders tightly, her nails digging into his shoulder and her legs, wrapped around his waist, pulling him into her as he thrust harder and faster every moment. Arya seized his hair in a frighteningly strong grip and then brought it down so that they kissed again, Jasper using the chance to slip his tongue into her warm mouth, fighting with her own, for Arya was never one to surrender a fight, whether they be sparring with swords or tongues, she fought until victorious or beaten. Jasper's pleasure built up as he continued to thrust into Arya, then, with a sigh of relief that matched one made by Arya, he spilled his seed inside her, ending their kiss as he did so.

Panting, he looked down at her, her beautiful face looking up at him with sharp grey eyes. He brushed his fingers lightly along her cheek, smiling at her as he pushed himself off her and sitting at the edge of the bed. She sat up behind him and hugged him from behind, kissing his cheek as she did so. "So you did come to save me", Jasper said to her and she laughed.

"No", she said, kissing him again before getting up. "It seemed like a good idea at the time." Jasper half smiled, knowing that she was referring to Raeven Wendwater, and his excuse for fucking her before attacking Renly's host outside King's Landing.

"You have a funny way of punishing me for that", he told her.

Arya arched an eyebrow. "I just want to remind you that you will take no more women into your bed, just me."

Jasper nodded solemnly. "You know, it was Raeven's bed, not mine, you remain the only woman ever to have come to _my_ bed."

Arya smacked him lightly, "you know what I-", Jasper kissed her once more to silence her. Then there was a knocking at the door.

"Your Grace", it was Ser Balon. "The trial is about to start. They await only your presence.

"Thank you Ser Balon", Jasper called out and set got into some fresh clothes. He heard Arya doing the same. When he turned he saw that she had left Needle behind, but, ever his warrior queen, she had dressed in tunic and breeches in the grey and white of stark whilst he was in the gold and black of Baratheon.

They entered the outside area which had been set up, the black crowned stag flying from many different places, his sigil, two pavilions set up, both with the Clegane banner in front of it, the one to the right was where the Hound was preparing, taking some practice swings, the one on the left was for the Mountain. At the opposite side to the fighting ring, there was but a small ledge that gave way to a long fall off the edge of the Red Keep and into the Blackwater. When they entered, everyone stood and waited for them, specifically Jasper, to sit before doing so themselves. Arya was on his left and his mother on his right, wine in her hand. Next to her was his grandfather and next to Arya was Sansa, who had Stannis on her other side. When he sat, he nodded to Grand Maester Pycelle, who began the opening speech.

"In the sight of gods and men, we gather to ascertain the guilt or innocence of this man, Tyrion Lannister. May the Mother grant him mercy, may the Father give them such justice as they deserve, may the Warrior guide the hand of our champion, may the Smith grant them the strength to fight, may the Maiden grant the truth, may the Crone guide the hearts of the accused and accuser, and may the Stranger accompany he who falls on his way."

Jasper nodded to the trumpeters, who began the fanfare and both Clegane brothers stepped into the designated area. They did not speak, but instead launched themselves at each other.

The Mountain struck first, bringing his two handed, although wielded in a single hand, blade in a wide slash which the Hound blocked, steel screeching against steel as the two giants fought each other. It was combat like Jasper had never seen before, both were filled with rage, and yet silent, and they hardly moved. The Hound was possibly the only one who could fight the other toe to toe, everyone else would have to use speed and quickness.

The Hound struck back, giving a strike towards his brother's leg, then to his head, then the other leg. The mountain blocked the first two with his sword and the third with his shield before bringing his sword down in a single strike aimed to split the Hound in two from scalp to balls. The Hound spun out of the way and hacked in a horizontal slash at his brother's arm, but the Mountain once more put his shield between sword and flesh. Jasper gripped his chair more tightly, but other than that did not react.

The Mountain struck once more, his sword hacking in half a dozen strikes at his brother and the Hound, although forced backwards, maintained his guard, blocking every strike, only one of them, an attack to his head, scratched his hound helm, but no lasting damage was made. Then the Hound struck back with several strong strikes and, incredibly, drew first blood when his sword nicked the Mountain under the arm, where the armour was weak. However, it only seemed to drive the Mountain deeper into his blood fury.

The largest man in Westeros hacked and slashed repeatedly at his brother who was forced further and further back, away from Jasper and towards the edge of the fighting ring. However he is just able to move to the side and get out of the way. But not fast enough, the Mountain cuts a deep gash into the Hound's arm and blood spurted onto the floor. The Hound swung at his brother but the Mountain met him with his own blade, knocking it from his brother's hand.

Jasper could see out of the corner of his eye that his mother smiled slightly.

That smile was replaced with a look of alarm, one that Jasper shared moments later, when the Hound bent at the waist and charged his brother, pushing him back to the edge of the fighting ring. Then he seized his older brother's legs and upended him, sending him, with a roar of rage from both brothers, over the edge of the ring, the edge leading to the Blackwater.

Silence fell upon the crowd. Jasper was the first to react, he swept to his feet and rushed over to the edge, looking over it. The Mountain was gone, presumably into the raging torrents of the Blackwater. He turned to the crowd, all of whom were looking to him expectantly.

He cleared his throat. "Tyrion of the House Lannister, the gods have spoken, you are cleared of the charge of regicide."


	61. ASOS The Lion's Brother

Kevan Lannister had seen Lannisport many times. It was, after all, just next to his home, Casterly Rock. But as he made his way though the streets of the ruined city, he considered that he had never, not even in the Greyjoy Rebellion, seen such devastation, brick houses were half collapsed, wooden buildings mere ash and cinders. Starved and emaciated civilians were half crawling along the hard cobbles, blackened with soot and ash. His host was trying to help, they were gathering the civilians up and escorting them out of the city, now that the Ironborn were driven out, with heavy losses. He spurred his horse forward, riding through the streets towards the harbour of the city, where his host, after finishing the evacuation of the civilians, was to gather, there to meet with the Royal Fleet. News had already come north from the Reach. Garlan Tyrell and Randyll Tarly had liberated the Shield Islands and the Arbor respectively. Now all that remained were the Iron Islands themselves, a duty given to the Lannisters and the Tyrells, with the support of the Royal Fleet. Command of the ships was given to Ser Davos Seaworth, assigned commander of the Royal Fleet, whilst Stannis Baratheon remained in the capital. Command of the ships was given to Ser Davos Seaworth, assigned commander of the Royal Fleet, whilst Stannis Baratheon remained in the capital. Kevan had command of the ground forces, and he had already made his plans. They would use the heavy horse and scour the Islands of resources and food, then they would take castles, one by one, until the Iron King knelt. Kevan knew his men were seething for revenge, and did not doubt that those of the Reach were also waiting for their chance for revenge. No doubt he would find out, for they were marching north, up the Ocean Road, with food and fodder for both hosts, they should be there within the week.

When he got to the harbour, Ser Addam Marbrand was waiting for him. Ser Addam had not been the same since the Battle of Acorn Hall, where he had been outmanoeuvred and defeated by Robb Stark. He was still a daring commander, but nothing like he was. "Ser Kevan", he called out as he approached him. "We have their leader."

Kevan nodded, "excellent", he replied, "take me to him." They marched along the burning harbour, although thankfully the mooring points appeared to be intact for the Royal Fleet. At one end were dozens of captured Ironborn, on their knees, bound and looking savage and furious. Ser Addam nodded and two Marbrand knights dragged forward one of them. He had black hair and a black beard, and empty quiver on his back. "You commanded these men?" Kevan demanded.

The man looked up, and Kevan noted that he was very young, no doubt more less than half his own age. No doubt his youth added to the savage nature of the Ironborn was why he had been harrying the Westerlands coast with such ferocity. He spat at Kevan"s red armoured boots. "I am Prince Theon Greyjoy", he replied, half snarling. "Release me Lannister."

Theon Greyjoy, the one who had betrayed the Starks and then attacked them. He did not count the defeat of the Freys as a particular loss, however his sister, who was married to one of them in a way that made Kevan's lip curl still, had also been killed at the Twins. Westeros would not mourn his passing. However, compared to the crimes of the boy's uncle Victarion at Oldtown and Lannisport, the Shield Islands and the Arbor, the boy would get a brief mention in the history books of the Maesters at best. "Remove his head", Kevan decreed, and the knights took him away, such a criminal would get no ransom. "Mount it on the gates." He was about to walk away when he saw the other Ironborn. "Them to", he said, striding towards a point in the harbour where he would be able to look out into the sea, awaiting the arrival of the Royal Fleet.

The first ship of the Royal Fleet came into view the next day. A huge three decked warship, lined with scorpions and catapults, larger than Tywin's flagship. He guessed this must be the _Fury_, the Flagship of Stannis Baratheon, currently being captained by Davos Seaworth. Indeed that seemed to be the case, for the man who disembarked from the warship certainly did not look to be of noble birth. He was in simple leathers, with a pouch around his neck and a rough cloak around his shoulders. Indeed the only thing that indicated nobility was the sword at his waist. "Ser Davos", Kevan called out and the man made for him.

"Ser Kevan", he replied, nodding to him in respect for a fellow knight. "I am sorry for your city."

"We will punish the Ironborn", Kevan replied stiffly, "then we shall rebuild."

Ser Davos nodded, and turned to look at his fleet. "I am afraid things won" be so simple, much of the Ironborn Fleet escaped, I shall have to defeat it before we can cross to the Islands."

"Can you do it?" Kevan asked him.

Ser Davos once again nodded. "I can do so, but we will need some more supplies, food and water mostly."

Kevan nodded, "the Ironborn have scoured much of the nearby areas, but I shall see what we can get you."

"You may wish to assign another to do so with a small force of men", Ser Davos advised. Kevan raised an eyebrow. "If we want to be able to cross to the Iron Islands as quickly as possible, it would be better to do so from the Banefort", he explained. "From there it is two days to the Iron Islands", he said, "rather than the week or longer it would take from here." Kevan nodded, it made sense, do not allow the Ironborn to regroup before you attack them.

"Very well", he said, I shall take the host north to the Banefort, some other shall remain behind to find you and your ships some supplies and inform the Tyrells when they arrive."

Davos nodded, "I wish you fortune on the road Ser Kevan."

"And I wish you fortune upon the waves", he replied, nodding in respect before turning to gather his host and march to the Banefort.

Kevan, the commanders of the Westerlands and the Commanders of the Reach forces were looking out to sea, at the battle between the Iron Fleet and the Royal Fleet. The mass of sails and oars upon the waves was just confusing to Kevan, the various banners and sails were moving and weaving in amongst each other. However, it did seem to be the case that there were more Greyjoy sails going down than Royal ones, but then, they could just be going behind the other sails and then emerging later on. The men of the two hosts down on the beach, waiting to be picked up by the Royal Fleet for transport to the Iron Islands to end the war were also watching the battle, some were cheering, others not, but Kevan knew that they were all praying for success for Ser Davos and his ships. Gradually the sun moved through the sky, and the ships fell, one by one into the sea and Kevan knew he was right. Using their weight of numbers, the Royal Fleet had overcome the Iron Fleet, the Kraken flags were falling and burning and the huge Royal warships were now trampling over the tiny longships, the last few of the war capable Ironborn ships fleeing back to their islands.

The Battle had started with both fleets lining up to oppose each other. The Iron Fleet had arranged itself in a point, much like a wedge of heavy horse on a battlefield on land, a tactic that Ser Addam was want to use. The Royal Fleet had instead used a crescent formation to take advantage of their numbers. However the Iron King had recognised the plan and turned all his ships towards the right flank of the Royal Fleet and, with extensive use of flaming arrows and hurled torches, they took the advantage. But Ser Seaworth was able to turn it around. His left flank held long enough for the right flank to be brought around and struck the Ironborn Flank, cutting off most of the fleet and surrounding it. But the fighting was still fierce, and Kevan and his men had still been praying. But the tide was significantly against the Ironborn, even Kevan, who had never commanded at sea could tell that they were scattered and disorganised, fleeing in a hundred different directions and they sank in a hundred thousand ripples that reached them, even at the coast by the Banefort.

Only then, with the hard heart of Ironborn strength scattered, sinking and burning, did the Royal Fleet turn back to collect the large host of men from the Reach and the Westerlands, forty five thousand in total, for the invasion of the Iron Islands. The force was divided into three waves. He would command the first wave of fifteen thousand men from the Westerlands, and land on Pyke to subdue the Greyjoy home. The next wave would land on Great Wyk and Old Wyk, under Randyll Tarly. The third wave, under Garlan Tyrell, would reinforce the first waves as they spread out to destroy any remaining Ironborn resistance. The two reachmen leaders had agreed to the plan, which was why their forces were camped behind his own men, who were armed and ready to embark, with all the supplies needed to get them and the horses to the Iron Islands.

Kevan turned to his commanders. "Lord Tarly, the command is yours now that I leave."

The Lord of House Tarly, a gruff man, with his houses huge Valyrian Steel Greatsword, which Tywin had once attempted to buy from the man, only to be rebuffed instantly, nodded. He was the true battle commander of House Tyrell, Lord Tyrell's son Garlan was a strong knight and an inspiring presence, but Randyll Tarly was cold, shrewd and calculating. He was narrow, true, but as fine a soldier as the Reach could boast. "I wish you the best of luck, Ser Kevan", he replied.

"And I you", Kevan replied, "Lord Tarly, Ser Garlan." Some men would normally be nervous, but in truth the only foe that really stood in the way of this host was the sea. With the Ironborn fleet sunk they were scattered and would be unable to maintain a strong defence. They would submit and be punished for their actions, this Kevan knew, and he knew enough about King Jasper, from the times he had visited Casterly Rock in his youth to know that the Ironborn would be punished for the crimes inflicted upon Lannisport and Oldtown, the Reach and the Westerlands, the North and the Riverlands, everywhere Greyjoy flags had flown. He made his way down to the ships and his host, to end the War of the Four Kings once and for all.


	62. ASOS Jasper VIII

_A/N: For those wondering the Hound did not go over with the Mountain, if he had, then Jasper could not have declared Tyrion innocent as he wouldn't know who died first._

Jasper was sat upon the Iron Throne, for the last time in a while hopefully, for the renovations of the Throne Room could begin as soon as the lead of the Iron Islands arrived. News had arrived the day before from Pyke. The Iron Islands had been subdued with little difficulty. Iron King Victarion Greyjoy was killed when his ship fell against the Royal Fleet, Theon was executed in Lannisport and Yara Greyjoy was being held captive in Highgarden. There was no organisation amongst the Ironborn, merely individual warriors fighting for their lives. But against disciplined and organised soldiers, they fell. Now Jasper had to go through the tedious but necessary process of giving out rewards and punishing the traitors. Many lords were expectantly looking up at him, so he took the first document off a pile next to him. "In recognition of his efforts in defeating the Iron Fleet, and thus facilitating the defeat of the Ironborn on the land, it is hereby declared that, in a line flowing from him, from his heirs to their heirs until the end of time, Ser Davos Seaworth is granted Lordship of Dragonstone, and the Lords of the Narrow Sea." Jasper put the document to the side and took up the next one. He noticed, as he did that many of the Lords in the room were less than happy at a commoner being granted such a historic seat. But Jasper could think of no one else more suited to lordship of that island.

"Due to the destruction of their house, and in praise of his subjugation of Pyke and the Iron Islands in total, Ser Kevan Lannister is granted Lordship of the city of Lannisport, in a line to be continued by his heirs and their heirs after them, until the end of time."

That proclamation was more widely accepted by the assembled lords in the room, for Ser Kevan was respected and of noble birth, being the brother of the Hand of the King Tywin Lannister.

"Due to the loss of House Serry in the Greyjoy conquest of Southshield, Ser Garlan Tyrell is granted Lordship of Southshield, I hereby create House Tyrell of Southshield, and the line shall be continued by Ser Garlan's heirs and their heirs until the end of time." Again, this proclamation was met with applause and approval of the assembled lords.

Jasper set the document to the side and picked up the next two. The next one was not to spark the energy of the lords, but the one after it would. He cleared his throat. "Due to the heinous crimes committed by the House Greyjoy, I strip from them the title of Lord Paramount of the Iron Islands, the title shall pass to the House Blacktyde, and their line shall rule the islands until the end of time, from Lord Blacktyde"s heirs and their heirs." Lord Blacktyde was a convert to the Faith of the Seven, and Jasper hoped that he would curb Ironborn ambitions. Even if he could not however, his next proclamation would prevent them from rebelling ever again.

"It is hereby decreed", Jasper said, speaking loudly, "that every tree on the Islands of Pyke, Orkmont, Harlaw, Great Wyk, Old Wyk and Saltcliffe shall be cut down and used in the reconstruction of the lands ravaged by the Ironborn in the war. Every Thrall and Salt Wife on the Iron Islands shall be released with their families and used in the repopulation of these regions. Every ship shall be dismantled and used to rebuild the Royal Fleet to the size and strength it was before the Battle of the Redwyne Straits, after which the resources, if there are any left, shall be used to assist the reconstruction of the ravaged lands. The Iron Islands shall have an embargo period, where upon they shall not be permitted to build any kind of ship designed for raiding or war. The one exception to this rule is the House of Blacktyde, who may build ships, but no more than fifteen of them shall be designed for war. Every time the ship is built it must be inspected by a royally appointed official who shall determine whether or not it is in compliance with this decree. Should it not be in compliance, then the Iron Islands shall be scoured of all lumber once again, and every ship shall be dismantled once more, and used in the construction of new ships for the Royal Fleet. The Iron Islands shall send, once the thralls and Salt Wives have been taken from the Island, five thousand workers to help rebuild the Westerlands, and another five thousand to help rebuild the Reach. Every noble house shall send one child, a son if there is one, if not a daughter will suffice, to be raised in the Red Keep in King's Landing, where they shall be treated as honoured guests of the crown for a minimum period of ten years. If they are below the age of sixteen at the end of these ten years, then they shall remain in the Red Keep until they are of that age. Should the Ironborn again break the King's Peace, it shall be prerogative of the King of the Seven Kingdoms to end the recognition of the Iron Islands as an independent region of the Seven Kingdoms. Instead the Islands shall be transferred to the control of loyal lords on the western coast."

Jasper was right, the lords and ladies all cheered as he finished the proclamation. But he did not feel like cheering himself. He had just condemned a culture to eradication. But he knew that such a violent peoples had no place in his Kingdoms. But with luck, and the addition of lead to the list of materials he had in his drawer in his solar, Jasper would be passing more controversial decrees in the near future in order to change the Kingdoms for the better.

Jasper took up the last piece of paper, and the room fell silent. He stood, and cleared his throat to make his final proclamation. "Let it be said that I, Jasper, of the House Baratheon, first of my name, King of the Andals and the First Men, Lord of the Seven Kingdoms and Protector of the Realm, do hereby declare the War of the Four Kings over." Cheers went up once again as Jasper descended the steps, escorted by his Kingsguard, and left the throne room once more. Sadly, his duties were not done, as he now had to attend a council meeting.

The first order of business at the Council meeting was that of Joffrey's murder. "We need to find out who it was", Tywin said, "the murder of a king cannot go unpunished."

"I understand grandfather", Jasper replied, tired of the issue, as far as he was concerned, whoever it was had done the world, if not himself, a favour. "But I cannot keep all the guests at the High Table during the feast here indefinitely. Princess Arianne Martell is eager to return home, as is Mace Tyrell and his family, although his daughter wishes to remain as a guest and Lady Alla Tyrell with her children." His bastards were never referred to as his children in official capacity, it was Tywin's suggestion that he, as publicly as possible, remained faithful to his new wife. Jasper had been insulted by him saying that but had held his tongue. He had every intention of being faithful to Arya.

"What would you suggest we do then nephew?" Tyrion asked him. Since being reinstated as Master of Coin, Tyrion had been eager to catch the culprit of the murder, if only to further exonerate him. But mostly, Jasper knew, because whoever it was had tried to get Tyrion to lose his head for it.

Jasper sighed. "The more time passes the less likely it is that we will discover the murderer, if anyone provides me with any clue or suspect with some evidence, then I will have them seized. If not, then I will have to let the guests go."

No one seemed pleased with it, but Jasper was not happy either, he did not want the killer of the king to escape justice, but better they flee to escape their crime than remain in the capital where they could hurt his family more. Based on the fact that his food tasters had not keeled over dead, Jasper could assume that Joffrey was killed for being Joffrey, not for being the king. "What else is there to be discussed?" He asked.

"The Iron Bank is requesting more payments be made to it", Tyrion said, opening a thick ledger in front of him. "By the end of the year they want half a million gold dragons."

Jasper sighed and put his head in his hands. "Can we make that number of dragons in that amount of time?"

Tyrion did not look too optimistic. "Possibly, we would be stretching it as far as we can go though, unless you were to recall the dragons you have set aside for your project."

"No", Jasper said. He had told no one, not even Arya, Beric or Stannis, what his project was, and he would not, but it would be completed. "That project must go ahead, it must be finished and secured before the Targaryen girl makes her way here."

"Very well then", Tyrion said, not pressing the issue, for Jasper had made it clear in previous meetings that he would reveal the project in due time. "Then I would suggest a new tax, a temporary one. I was thinking that we could utilise the brothels, tax some money off every use of a whore there, it won't be overly much, but it should add some stability. However it would mean slowing down the reconstruction processes across Westeros."

Jasper rubbed his chin in thought and then said. "Then we shall turn that into low interest loans", he told them, "use them to get some dragons back into the coffers, the sooner this debt to the Iron Bank is done, the sooner one massive thorn is removed from my side. But if, by the end of the year, we do not have enough, I may need another loan from you grandfather."

Tywin nodded, "it will be no problem."

Tyrion noted down what Jasper had said to do with the economy whilst Devan, who was scribing for the meeting, recorded it on his papers.

At that point there was a knock on the door, and a messenger entered, once Jasper had given them leave to do so. "Forgive me your grace", he said, bowing to him, "but there is a message for Lord Stannis." Jasper waved him forward and the servant gave the message to the Lord of Storm's End.

Stannis" eyes widened momentarily. "What is it Stannis?" Jasper asked, concerned for his uncle.

Stannis folded the message up and replied, "my wife she… she was crossing to Storm's End by ship. I told her to go with my daughter by land but she insisted on going by ship. The ship was caught in a storm and sunk. No survivors."

Jasper's breath caught. He had never truly liked Stannis" wife, but then he hadn't either, but still. "I am sorry Stannis", Jasper said. "Please, be excused if you feel like you need to."

"No", Stannis replied instantly, his face emotionless. "I shall carry on my duties here."

Jasper nodded, knowing it would be better not to press the issue. Instead he carried on with the meeting.

That night, as he crawled into bed, waiting for Arya to join him, he thought about the war, and how strange it felt for it to be over. Perhaps it was because he had not been involved in the final victory, but he did not feel like he had won it. Instead, he felt like he had more work to do now than ever. He let his head fall back against the soft feather pillow, and closed his eyes. Irritatingly, he was in that state where his eyes wanted to be half closed and half open and staying still for too long meant they just got more and more open. It was not helped when Arya sat down roughly on the bed, jolting him and making him open his eyes wide and look at her.

She did not look too happy. "What's wrong?" He asked her, sitting up.

"Why does everyone insist on me wearing a dress?" She demanded, looking at him.

"They think that you are the queen and so should wear one", Jasper replied, brushing the back of his fingers along her soft cheek.

"I got taken to four different seamstresses today", she complained vehemently. "It was so boring, and none of them knew how to make a dress with a place for Needle."

"How dare they", Jasper muttered, smiling at the scowl she sent his way. "Well, just don't go if you don't want to. I will not force you."

"I know", she replied, leaning against him lightly.

Jasper wrapped his arm around her shoulders and stroked her arm, she nestled up to his side and rested her head on his shoulder, closing her eyes. Jasper smiled, glad at the peace, and so closed his own eyes, eager to let sleep overcome him. But when Arya's hand drifted over his cock, he knew that would not be happening just yet.


	63. ASOS Arya IV

_A/N: Okay, so this is the last chapter of this book in the series, rest assured I am far from done yet, however, given that I have two university assignments due in next week, I may take a short break before uploading again. Good news for those Dany lovers (I am not a Dany lover myself, I like her, but I am not a supporter, but that is mostly because I want Stannis to win in the end) we shall be moving over to Essos as well, since events in Westeros are beginning to influence what happens over there. We have already seen how Jasper intends to deal with Daenerys, begin to affect that storyline. I will not abandon Westeros, for there is still much for Jasper to do, but expect new POVs including Barristan, Daenerys and another OC, a soldier from New Ghis, which I began writing as an experiment of interest and started to like were I was going._

_I would also like to thank all those who have stuck by me so far and hope that you will continue to do so until I come to the end of this adventure._

_As a side note, for my next story it is looking like it will be a mix of the ideas I have got, featuring Stannis' son and the second son of Tywin Lannister. Any thoughts?_

_Anyway, I have kept you long enough, so thanks once again, and enjoy a chapter from the new Queen of Westeros._

Arya ducked beneath the swipe of Jasper's sword and attacked him with her own. But Jasper batted her attacks aside with his superior strength and attacked again. Arya tried to move out of the way, but her direwolf armour made it harder to move, so instead she used the steel plate to protect herself and simply attacked Jasper, forcing him to quickly adjust his blade in order to defend against her. She kept attacking, following slashes with thrusts and horizontal with vertical strikes, but Jasper blocked every one of them, his greater experience helping him greatly and, sure enough, before long Arya was not quick enough to react and Jasper's sword was at her throat, giving him the victory.

"Not bad Arya", Jasper said, pulling off his helm as Arya pulled off hers, "but you need to speed up again in your armour."

"I know", Arya grumbled, pulling off her gauntlets and waiting patiently for Devan to finish removing Jasper's armour so he could remover hers. "I need my own squire", she said, matter-of-factly.

Jasper laughed, "I suppose you will", he replied, unbuckling his sword belt so that Devan could remove his greaves and armoured boots. "We'll find you one at some point", he continued.

Arya nodded, "good." They were silent from then until their armour was removed and servants were called to take it to their chambers. "Can we go again tomorrow?" Arya asked Jasper, as they made their way back to their chambers ahead of the armour, in order to change into fresh clothing for the rest of the day.

But Jasper shook his head. "I am afraid not, not tomorrow Arya", he said, and Arya sighed, his duties as king were taking up too much time, it left some time for them to make love at night, but left limited time for them to train together. He was getting more time now that the war was over, but still, it was not easy for them to be apart, whenever Jasper wasn't there, someone annoying was. It was so unbearable Arya was already wishing for her sister back, although she had only been gone a week, for that was when Jasper gave his leave for them to return home, and Sansa had left by ship for White Harbour. "I have to go back to the smiths", he continued as he pulled on one of his high collared tunics, with the left collar tied down against the shoulder with thick golden ties. "Toho Mott has finished the armour for my horse."

Arya had wanted to see that armour, so asked, "can I come with you?"

"Of course", Jasper replied, as he tied his belt on.

Then Arya asked something that she had wondered when they first went there but forgot to ask due to excitement over her armour. "The boy that works there", she began, and Jasper looked over to her. "Why does he look quite like you?"

Jasper simply replied, "why do you think?"

Arya thought, "is he related?"

Jasper nodded, "my father had more bastards than Edric", he explained, "he is one of them."

"Then why is he not called… what was his name, Storm?"

"Because", Jasper replied, "his mother is low born and he is not acknowledged, my father never knew he existed." Then he looked over at her, "and Gendry has no idea", he warned her, "you will not tell him either."

"Why not?" She asked.

"Because for one thing he probably wouldn't care in the slightest, and secondly", he continued, "that may put his life in danger from my mother."

"Couldn't you keep him safe?" Arya commented, "you could help him."

Jasper shook his head, "I already have, more than I should have."

Arya raised an eyebrow. "How?"

Jasper sighed, "serving as an apprentice to a man as skilled as Tobho Mott is not cheap, I paid his fees so he could learn to become a smith. He has a trade thanks to me. That is more than enough."

"Why did you do it?" Arya asked. She knew Jasper was kind hearted, in his own way, but she did not think he would go out of his way like that.

"Stannis muttered about my father's bastards once", Jasper told her sitting down on the bed. "I was curious and asked to see one, but Stannis would not take me, nor would Jon Arryn when I asked him. So I asked the one person who might know."

"Who?"

Jasper smiled slightly, "Varys of course. He took me to the boy, his mother had just died, he was older than me. I decided I would help him so paid for Tobho Mott to take him as an apprentice. Varys helped with that. But then I told my parents", he sighed and rubbed his eyes, as though he was tired, "and did they tell me that I had done well, did they congratulate me, no, they both smacked me for going out into the city with Varys. It inspired my adventurous side, but I never told Gendry who he was, nor any of the others."

"There are others you have met?"

Jasper bit his lip in thought. "Not really", he finally said. "I met Edric, as you know, at Storm's End, but I met my father's first at the Eyrie. A daughter."

He shuddered, "what", Arya asked, "why did you just shudder."

Jasper sighed, "this would be awkward to discuss, you are my wife."

Arya heard what he said and knew what he was implying. "Did you fuck her!?" She demanded in a loud whisper.

"No", Jasper replied hurriedly, looking around. "I was fourteen, I nearly did, but then Ser Nestor Royce noticed the way I was looking at Mya and told me who she was. I was horrified with myself", he added.

"As you should be", Arya reprimanded. She had managed to overlook the fact that Jasper had fucked Raeven Wendwater, she understood why he did it, and Alla Tyrell, they were not to be married when he did. But knowing that his cock had been inside his own half-sister would make it a lot harder for her to allow him inside her.

"I was", he assured her, and he strode over to her, cupping her cheek in his palm. "I am yours Arya, only yours."

She reached up and curled her fingers around his, "I know", she whispered, turning her head and kissing his hand.

Arya made her way down one of the corridors of the Red Keep, alone, as she preferred, thinking about the events of the last few days, and wondering what renovations could be made to the throne room that would mean that she could not see it. Eventually she found herself in the gardens of the Red Keep, still running through the possibilities of what could be in there, she knew that Jasper had brought in stonemasons, and so he was probably putting up statues. She wondered if he had one for her, a wolf, a snarling wolf. She smiled at the thought and then looked up as the sun glinted in her eyes. She saw that it was glinting off Joy Hill's golden hair, Jasper's bastard cousin, who had been looking after his bastard children ever since she had recaptured them. Arya sat down next to the girl as she watched over the twins who were crawling around in the grass, although Arya considered that it was probably wrong to call her a girl, given that they were the same age and, in the eyes of the world, she was now a woman, a woman at fifteen.

"Your Grace", Joy greeted, smiling at her, her bright red dress folded neatly underneath her.

"Arya, please", Arya replied, Joy had done a marvellous job in looking after Jasper's bastards, hopefully she would look after her children as well, and that meant they would be close. She could just about stomach people she didn't know referring to her as Your Grace, but Joy was a kind girl, and Arya hoped to bond with her. "How are they?"

Joy smiled, quickly getting up and redirecting Arthur as he tried to crawl into some thorny bushes. "Rather well, Arthur seems to have a death wish, but apart from that, very well behaved and adorable." Arya had to admit there was a certain fondness to them.

However, the peace and quiet that Arya had hoped to use to bond with Joy were interrupted by the arrival of two rather unwelcome figures. The mother of Jasper's bastards, Alla Tyrell, and her cousin, Margaery, who eyed her crown with a very fleeting look, so fleeting that Arya could not be entirely sure she saw it, of envy. "Your Grace", she gave a curtsy as well, as all proper noble ladies would to her from now on. Arya had to refrain from grimacing.

"Lady Margaery", she replied, "please have a seat."

They two of them sat on a different bench a respectful distance away, no one saying a word, not mentioning anything. But then Margaery spoke up. "Do you know when you will give the king an heir?"

Arya looked up at her. "No I do not", she replied, slowly, carefully.

"Soon I hope", Margaery said, "it would do the Kingdoms good to know that an heir has been born."

Arya narrowed her eyes, Margaery Tyrell wanted something, whether it be to frighten her or to make her angry. But if she hoped that she would run away and become a Septa, then she was mistaken, Jasper was hers, and no other's.

But Margaery had no time to answer, for Jasper himself then entered the gardens, Beric Storm at his shoulder. "Jasper", Arya greeted, smiling. Then, to show her point to Margaery, she rushed over to him and kissed him fiercely, gripping his tunic tightly. She felt Jasper's strong arms hold her close to him and she inwardly smiled. They broke the kiss and Jasper pressed his forehead to hers. "It is good to see you", she said.

"And you as well my love", Jasper replied, smiling, "but I am afraid that my business right now is with the Lady Margaery." Arya felt her heart falter for a second, but then regained her confidence, Jasper was not going to set her aside. Her fear was unfounded.

"Me, Your Grace?" Margaery asked.

Jasper nodded. "I have found you a husband", he told her, and Arya smiled as Margaery's face faltered.

"A husband, Your Grace?"

Jasper nodded, "yes, a husband, you will marry my uncle Stannis, and give him the heirs you were so eager to give Renly and Joffrey, for he needs a son to inherit Storm's End." Margaery looked speechless, which was probably why Jasper continued. "Do not try to question it Margaery, as a ward of the crown I have the right to name a husband for you. I will begin arranging the wedding with the support of yourself, uncle Stannis, and your father. Good day." Jasper turned and left, leaving Arya alone with a shocked Margaery, a confused Joy and a bewildered Alla.

Arya was waiting outside one of the throne room's side entrances, she knew that her brother was amongst the lords and heads of state outside the main entrance. She had not met him yet, for he had only just arrived with the Northern lords, and she had been detained, but Jasper had promised her she could meet him afterwards. The only people in the room itself were Jasper and his Kingsguard, other than that it was empty. She would be entering at the same time as them, and was eager to see both what had happened and why Jasper needed his great lords and the heads of state to come. She heard the main door open and entered the room herself.

It was almost unrecognisable. There were banners hanging from the ceiling, each of the Great Houses of Westeros were present on those banners, Stark, Tully, Lannister, Baratheon, Martell, Arryn, Tyrell and Blacktyde. Around the walls were dozens of smaller flags, it seemed to be that there was one for every noble house in Westeros, dozens of torches lit up the room and behind the throne was a huge banner, the crowned Stag of Baratheon. The room itself was scrubbed cleaner than Arya had ever seen it before.

But the biggest difference was the throne itself. It had gone. In place of the Iron Throne, an ugly thing, Arya had always thought, that looked too uncomfortable. There was a stone throne. It was made out of eight different rocks. She recognised gold, chalk and marble, but apart from that they were unknown to her. Set deep into the large column of stone, at least fifteen feet high, was a new throne. Jasper was sat in the new throne, looking more regal than Arya had ever seen him. Every single one of the guests in the room had their jaws wide open, looking either at the room as a whole or just at the new throne. The Kingsguard were standing sentry around it and Ser Beric was stood closest to his king. Jasper beckoned her over and she approached him, realising that there were steps carved into the stone going up to where Jasper sat, and also there were two smaller thrones carved into the wide rock at ground level. He indicated the one to his right and she sat down in it. It was uncomfortable, but unlike the last throne, it did not seem to be fatal.

When everyone was in, Jasper stood up, stepped down the throne steps onto the raised pedestal where the throne stood. "Lords and fellow heads of state", he called out, very confidently. "I have called you here so that you may recognise the new throne of the Seven Kingdoms of Westeros. The Eightstone throne. Where the Targaryens ruled through suppression and fear, with their throne of defeated foes. Each of the stones that make up this throne have come from the regions of Westeros that make up my Seven Kingdoms. Today, My Lords, you shall swear fealty to the new throne of Westeros. My fellow heads of state, all I ask is that you formally recognise the new throne as the official successor to the Iron Throne."

There was a lot of muttering from those around the room, but, one by one, each of the lords of the Seven Kingdoms bent their knees and swore their fealty to the Eightstone Throne.

Arya watched as each of the heads of state formally accepted the Eightstone throne. She could tell that Jasper had already discussed it with them, for they had no inhibitions, what happened today was completely symbolic. But the Lords, even Lord Tywin, seemed completely surprised by it. Nevertheless, they all bowed eventually.

After swearing his oath of fealty, Arya met Robb in the Godswood of the Red Keep, Grey Wind and Nymeria tackling each other like the puppies they once were. Arya could not help but notice that Grey Wind was now as large as a small pony. She had hugged her brother tightly, enjoying his warmth and the fact that she had seen him. He looked different now, harder, his stubble-covered jaw and red hair still framed his face, but he was still undeniably Robb.

"I have missed you Arya", Robb whispered, as he stepped back and looked her up and down. "Queenship suits you well." Arya punched him lightly, thankfully, they were alone so no one could see it.

"I have missed you as well", she replied. "And if you were down here, you would not say that Queenship suits me well."

Robb laughed, "I have no doubt that is true Arya", he replied. He stroked her hair, the hair of their father. "I don't think anyone would ever have thought that you would be the Queen."

Arya smiled, "I am only the Queen because Jasper is king", she replied, "I married him because he allows me to be myself, not because it would make me Queen."

Robb looked down at her endearingly. "He is good to you?" He asked.

Arya did not know how to put into words what she was thinking, so she just said "yes", and nodded.

"Then I am happy for you", Robb replied, "you have my blessing."

"Thank you Robb", Arya said back to him.

They spent many hours alone in that godswood, talking about how things were back at Winterfell, and it reinforced to Arya that she would not live in Winterfell again. She would visit, she knew that, but it felt more and more strange to her. She hoped she would be able to deal with it.

That night, as she and Jasper were getting ready for bed, Arya asked Jasper about his new throne. "What made you change the throne?" She asked him.

"Did you see the old one?" Jasper asked in reply. "I preferred to sit on the stone floor, but that was undignified."

Arya could tell that under the slight smile and humour, there was another reason. She just looked at him. Jasper sighed. "By all accounts it looks like the Targaryen girl in the East will make her way to Westeros, she has a claim on the Iron Thorne but not this one. My father defeated the Targaryens, I shall remove all traces of them from King's Landing."

"How?" Arya asked, and Jasper smiled.

"I already have plans for the ruins of the Dragonpit", he explained, but when Arya raised her eyebrows, hoping he would explain it, he simply kissed her on the nose. "I have asked for your brother's help with that", he continued.

When Arya saw that he was not going to explain further, she asked, "why were there two extra thrones?" She asked.

"The king decides who is to sit there, whichever advisers advise him better normally, but eventually, I intend to have my son sit there", he explained.

"Your son?" Arya asked.

Jasper nodded, "Joffrey was never taught how to rule and the Seven Kingdom's bled, they bled from wounds that I am still trying to staunch. Aegon the fifth was in a similar situation, but whilst he was a good ruler his children were wild, and that wildness eventually led to the downfall of his dynasty. My son and heir will sit there as I hold court, once he is old enough to learn, and he will learn how to be a good king. As will his son and all sons in that line."

"What about when the Hand of the King is ruling?" She asked him, thinking back to her father once more.

"Then he will choose who sits there", he replied simply, 'but I hope that that only happens when the king is ill, I hope my line learns to rule well and in their own right', he finished, climbing into bed. She followed after him, crawling down it and kissing him.

"It seems the only thing you need now is an heir to sit there eventually", she joked.

Jasper seized her and spun her over. "It would seem that way wouldn't it", he whispered. Arya smiled, spread her legs and took him inside her. Jasper took her twice that night, in quick succession. When he rolled off her and wrapped her in his arms as he drifted off, Arya felt an ache between her thighs. It was strange when mixed with the comfort of being in his arms, but it mattered not, for it was still a good ache.

She may have meant what she said to be in jest, but her moon blood did not come that month.


	64. AFFC Barristan I

_For the first time since the death of King Robert, House Baratheon is in power in Westeros…_

_With a new throne to sit on, an heir on the way and peace across his continent, Jasper Baratheon, the first of his name takes steps to bring stability to Westeros. However he faces opposition from within his own court as his mother and her family struggle to conceal damaging truths from the new King which could threaten their position of power in King's Landing. _

_Meanwhile, as Jasper Baratheon sets about himself destroying the traces of the old Targaryen regime in Westeros, the Dragons in the east look to their homeland with vengeance in their hearts._

Ser Barristan went for a meeting with his queen in the grand Pyramid of Meereen. Daenerys had refused to leave the city and sail for Westeros, instead deciding to remain in the city and learn how to rule, and become a queen that Westeros would be proud of. Barristan had hopes for her. She could command loyalty, she could be both fair and stern, and she was a Targaryen, she held the blood of the Dragon. The Baratheon line of kings would always be tainted by the taint of usurper, but the Targaryens would not, they forged the seven kingdoms into one unified realm under Aegon the Conqueror.

Outside the room were six Unsullied, and Barristan knew there would be more inside, they had stepped up the protection of their liberator after the fourth assassination attempt on her life, he was currently investigating why there had been attempts, for they were not related to the Sons of the Harpy murdering Dany's supporters in the night. He entered the room to find Ser Jorah Mormont present in the room, a fellow knight, Daenerys' translator, Missandei, Grey Worm, the leader of the Unsullied forces of Daenerys, and, though his presence was nearly enough to make Barristan"s lip curl, Daario Naharis, commander of the Second Sons. "Ser Barristan", his queen greeted. "Thank you for coming."

"Of course your grace", Barristan replied, sitting down at the round table where they were holding their meetings. "I apologise for my lateness."

"It is of no concern", Daenerys said, "Ser Jorah, you have news for us?"

Jorah nodded and passed the queen a piece of paper. "News from Westeros, your grace", he told her, "Joffrey Baratheon is dead", Barristan"s eyebrows shot up, the idiotic boy was dead then. "Murdered, poisoned at his own wedding." Barristan did not like it, it was a good thing for Westeros, but a bad thing for Daenerys" cause. "His brother, Jasper Baratheon now sits upon the Iron Throne."

Had this news come earlier, Barristan"s view on attacking King's Landing would be different. "That bodes well", Daenerys said, happy at the development.

"I am afraid that is not the case your grace", Barristan said, and the councillors all looked at him. "Jasper Baratheon is his brother"s superior in every way, he is smarter, more inspirational, more logical. Joffrey you could count on to be erratic, Jasper… less so." He looked directly at his queen. "Jasper Baratheon will unify the Seven Kingdoms again, your grace, that I am sure of."

"He has already begun", Jorah said, nodding, indicating the large letter, which seemed to have more on it than just information about the death of Joffrey. "He has convinced the Northerners to bend the knee once more and has launched his fleet against the Greyjoys." Barristan noted that Daenerys looked surprised. He knew she had a low opinion of "The Usurpers Dogs", no doubt influence from her brother Viserys. It was a pity, she may have gotten along well with Jasper had one of them been born to a different house. They shared similar values, at least they _had_ shared values, but Jasper had probably changed as a result of war, it happened, Barristan knew, would he recognise Jasper if they met again? He did not know, nor was he entirely sure he wanted to.

"Will he be able to defeat the Greyjoys?" Daenerys asked and Barristan could detect that she wasn't entirely sure who the Greyjoys were, he had no doubt that she had heard the name before, but he doubted that she could put a sigil to the name.

Barristan nodded, as did Jorah. "Jasper's mentor was Stannis Baratheon, Master of Ships, that man will be able to defeat the Greyjoys before, and he can do it again, Jasper will be in control of Westeros by the time we get there."

Daenerys nodded slowly. It was clear that she had wanted to get there before the War of the Four Kings had finished. But Jasper had ruined that plan by winning. Whoever had killed Joffrey had aided Westeros and damaged the chances of the Targaryen resurgence. "Is there any other news for me?" Daenerys asked.

Jorah nodded, "the Yunkish host is approaching Astapor", he said, "a motley force of slave soldiers are almost there."

"Can they take the city?" Daenerys asked.

Jorah made a face, finally he said, "King Cleon is requesting help, but he has also begun training new Unsullied from the Highborn boys. However Yunkai does not march alone. Several Sellsword companies have been contracted, including the Windblown and the Company of the Cat, both large companies", he made a nod to Daario, "larger than the second sons. Worse perhaps, New Ghis has despatched at least one legion to the city."

Daenerys" lip seemed to curl a little, and Barristan noted that maybe the queen of Valyrian descent hated mention of the Valyrians" great enemy. Ghis. But when he looked again, it was gone, and Barristan was not entirely sure whether he had seen it at all. "Cleon will have to stand alone", Daenerys declared, "if we abandon the Meereen, it will be taken back."

Barristan nodded. It was true, even if the queen should not be here, instead they should be sailing west, moving to westeros and the Iron Throne. However, she had made it clear that she would remain in Meereen until it was settled. "It is possibly true that the Yunkish will march against us should they defeat Astapor."

Daenerys nodded, "we may have beaten them before, but this time, they will have time to prepare a greater force."

Jorah and Barristan both gave their agreement to the statement. Yunkai would pull out all the stops that there were in order to preserve their way of life. If Daenerys didn't stop them, then they would once more enslave the people of Meereen. However there were other ways to win than battle, if she could somehow persuade them to back down and be content with slavery in their own city, then she might be able to leave. The problem with this plan was that slavery was the only economy the city had, given that Meereen had burned the land and poisoned the wells nearby, if Daenerys left then the Dragons and the Unsullied went with her, and then there would be nothing to stop the re-enslavement of Meereen, just as had happened in Yunkai. "Leave me", Daenerys said, and they all bowed and left, knowing that she had to think things over herself, she was no Jon Arryn.

Barristan made his way to the training grounds for his squires, determined to make sure that Yunkai had trained horsemen loyal to Daenerys rather than coin. He did not doubt the loyalty of Daario Naharis, he may not be the most inspirational men, or one who commanded the respect of elders, but he was loyal, but his men were still sellswords, and with Meereen"s slave economy gone, Yunkai could outspend them significantly.

Tumco Lho was, as usual, performing spectacularly well in the training session. He was wielding his sword like he had been born with one in his hand. Although he could use some polishing, as all new squires could, he was most certainly the best natural swordsman Barristan had seen since he had trained the new king.

_False King_, he reminded himself, shaking his head as thought of Jasper on the Iron Throne, which he had hoped for, for many years in his time under King Robert, flooded his head. _You are the queen's man now_, he reminded himself, _you will be hers until death. _Barristan wondered how the Kingsguard looked now. He had never liked any of them, none of them were truly worthy of their white cloaks, had the Kingslayer not profaned his blade with the King's blood, then he might have been a Lord Commander one day. Jasper shared his disdain, and wondered what he had done about it. Barristan had never thought he would hope for the Kingsguard to be replaced, but that was the only available solution to the problem of the paper shield. Half of them had been the Queen's men and the other half were incompetents. The sound of approaching footsteps made him look to Ser Jorah Mormont, coming up to him, sword at his waist. "Are you here to train Ser Jorah?" Barristan asked.

The northern knight shook his head. Looking down on the training yard as Barristan had been. "Jasper Baratheon", he said, turning his head to look at Barristan, "can we defeat him?"

Barristan sighed. "That would depend", he replied, "on whether we can control the dragons, and how long we take to get there, given enough time Jasper Baratheon could turn Westeros into an unassailable fortress."

"So we should sail as swiftly as possible then?" Jorah asked. Barristan nodded and it was Jorah"s turn to sigh. "I told her she should have sailed for Westeros long ago", he said.

"It is our place to protect and serve", Barristan said, quoting Gerold Hightower, his own Lord Commander, "not to judge, do that and we become like the Kingslayer."

Jorah nodded, he knew, Barristan could tell, but he did not like it, no one ever did at first, there were no more true knights, no more Arthur Daynes in Westeros or the world. With some fortune and time, perhaps he could turn these squires into some. "Even so", Jorah said, "if we remain here, fighting every power in the world that wants the slave trade in place, eventually, we will need to fight Volantis, Qarth, Pentos, Lys, Myr Tyrosh, the Dothraki and more, and with the dragons not et grown we cannot defeat them all."

Barristan nodded, he saw the argument, but still, "we must content ourselves with the enemies we have, if we can defeat them, then the Queen may turn to Westeros, our true destination."

"I can only hope so", Jorah replied. Barristan nodded and the two knights looked over the recruits once more, unsure of what the future held but bloodshed.

_A/N: Okay so I am back, updates are unlikely to be as rapid as they were before for a few reasons, but they are going to be coming. Also, if you have sent me any questions that I have not answered, either via review or PM I do apologise for not answering, but could you send them again, I am getting a little strapped for time, so it would just be easier for me than trawling through all my emails looking for them again. Anyway, hope you enjoy. _


	65. AFFC Arya I

_A/N: Okay, so several people have asked what Jasper intends to do about the dragons should they arrive, that question will be answered but there is quite some time between then and now, so please just be patient, what he thinks will come. _

_Big allen: both are quite good ideas actually, the Tommen one would probably be easier to write, since Tommen wouldn't do what Joffrey did, such as kill Ned, and it would also be interesting to see what Joffrey would be like as a second son, I'll think about it. Steffon as king would be more fun to write in terms of the unknown. But the unknown is the main problem with that, I can see how Steffon becomes king, just put all the rest of the Targaryens in the tragedy at Summerhall, so they all die, leaving him as the king. But I don't know what the story would be in that case. If you have any ideas, send them, if I like it, I will try to write it. Thanks for both of the ideas though. Maybe try to write one yourself if you like, I know I would read it._

_Keep up the reviews guys, they really do help._

Arya never truly liked reading. She considered it boring, not nearly active enough for her interests. But now her belly stuck out such a long way, and Jasper had, from the day she had told him that she was carrying his child, taken away her weapons and armour and forbidden her from training. She ran her hand over the annoying bulge, she had never been pretty before, at least, not compared to Sansa or anyone else of note, and now she was just fat. She would not be surprised if Sansa only got more beautiful when with child, but not her, not horseface.

A message had been sent to Winterfell, she had waited as long as possible before asking, but decided that she wanted her mother here, she knew what was happening and Arya trusted her. So she asked Jasper and he had sent the raven a matter of days ago. But, in the meantime Jasper had suggested that she try to follow her father's footsteps and so, she found the book that had been in his office, _The Lineages and Histories of the Great Houses of the Seven Kingdoms, With Descriptions of Many High Lords and Noble Ladies and Their Children, _it was boring, not least because she had no idea what she was looking for. She had looked over the Lannister pages so many times her Septa would be proud of her, she could remember many names of Lannister lords and kings. Of course the fact that many of them began with "Ty" made it slightly harder since she kept mixing them up, But there were a few Lorens in there and Lancels in there as well. As an aside, and out of interest she had looked through the Stark pages and found that she was one of only three Aryas recorded for thousands of years. There were more Sansas than Aryas anyhow, which brought a smile to her face, she liked being more unique. Once more she was looking over the Lannister pages, paying particularly close attention to the most recent entries of the main line, Cersei Lannister, Jaime Lannister and Tyrion Lannister, but nothing leapt out at her, it just seemed to be a description of them all. She slammed the book shut, angry at Grand Maester Malleon for writing it, all it did was get her father killed and she couldn't even work out why.

She was about to get up and go for a walk when she felt strong arms encircle her, hands resting on her belly. She was in her and Jasper's solar, there was only one person it could be. It was confirmed when she felt soft kisses trail down the side of her neck and onto her shoulder. "Jasper", she whispered, settling back into the chair.

"Arya", he replied, releasing her and taking a seat next to her. "Any progress?"

She shook her head. "Nothing, there is nothing about House Lannister in the book that suggests why my father was killed."

Jasper nodded slowly, "if it was obvious, then they would have been discovered earlier."

"Truth here is more valuable than water in Dorne", Arya commented.

Jasper leaned in and kissed her cheek, "we are true to each other; that means the most to me."

"What about you?" She asked him.

"I haven't looked", Jasper replied.

"What!" She demanded, "you still haven't looked, it has been seven months Jasper, Seven months since you put this thing one me", she poked her belly, "and you still have nothing".

"I have seven kingdoms to rule Arya, seven!" He took a breath, "I don't have the time. But I have faith that you will uncover the truth."

Arya smiled a little, he regularly talked about his faith in her, as though he truly believed what he was saying and he needed her to believe it, it made her feel more wanted than ever before. "How was your meeting?" She asked him. Not truly caring, but she liked talking with him, since she couldn't train with him anymore.

"Fine", Jasper replied, taking her hand and bringing her to a soft lounger and they sat down side by side. "But this is much better", he reached his hand down and pressed it against her belly again, and his child growing inside her. He smiled, it was a smile she had not seen much until recently. He had lost it since he came back to Storm's End from the war. He had regained it when she had told him that his seed had taken hold. She rested her head against his shoulder, and he kissed the top of her head.

"You know, as King", she said to him, "you should be more interested in your meetings."

Jasper pulled away and she looked over at him, fearful that she had upset him, and he did seem a little upset. It was less obvious than it was on some, but she recognised the slight tightening of his jaw and hardening of his absent gaze. "It was never meant to be mine", he said, running his hand through his hair, feeling the weight of his absent crown. "My place in service of the realm was always to be the battlefield. When father told me I would inherit Storm's End that fact did not change. Another should have the crown."

"There is no one better for it", Arya assured him, reaching out and touching his cheek lightly.

"I took the crown because it was my duty to do so", he continued, Arya was not entirely sure if he had heard what she had said. "But the crown is heavy and my new duties more so."

"You truly wished to serve Joffrey on the battlefield?" Arya asked.

"Wishing to do something and doing something are two very different things", Jasper told her. "I would not have liked it but it would have been my place." He looked over at her, a slight smile on his face, "it was your place to marry, but you fought that for many years."

Arya smiled back, placing her hand on his and bringing it back to her belly. "I think it went better than I thought it would."

"Yes it did", Jasper replied.

Then there was a knock on the door. Jasper called out for whoever it was to enter, straightening up. It was Beric. "Jasper, Arya", he said, nodding to them both, his white cloak about his shoulders, but he was not in armour, presumably because he was not on duty at the moment. "There is a messenger here to see you."

"Both of us?" Arya asked, surprised.

"Well, no", Beric answered, smiling, "just you Jasper."

Jasper nodded and got to his feet. "In the throne room", he said, and Beric nodded, leaving the room. Arya got to her feet.

When Jasper gave her a strange look, she snapped at him suddenly. "I am not so fat that I cannot move, or sit in that chair." Jasper smiled and led the way.

They took their places upon the throne and looked to the messengers, who wore a surcoat with an eagle on it. A white eagle with a white crescent moon upon a blue background that she recognised at once. The House of Arryn.

Jasper waved his hand, they were the only ones present, no councillors, only the Kingsguard, the two of them and the messenger. "Your Grace", he began, clearly confident that his message would not cause his head to be removed. "Lady Lysa, lady Regent of the Vale of Arryn, sends you a letter."

At that moment, Tywin Lannister, Grand Maester Pycelle and Stannis Baratheon entered the room, silently taking heir places, Tywin on his section of the throne and the other two on seats. "Continue", Jasper said, he was not surprised, like Arya was, that they had come.

"This letter", the messenger said, "has a number of requests for you. The First, that you immediately restore to Robin Arryn, Lord of the Vale, the title of Warden of the East that your father placed upon the Kingslayer Jaime Lannister. The second, that you send the bones of Petyr Baelish to the Vale for burial. Finally, that you add his murder to the list of crimes of Lord Eddard Stark."

Jasper looked surprised by both of the last two. "Thank you messenger", he said, "you are dismissed." The messenger nodded and turned to leave the room. "She has some nerve", Jasper muttered in contempt.

"Indeed", said Grand Maester Pycelle, "she should not have made such demands of the King."

"No she should not", Lord Tywin added, getting up from his minor throne as the rest of the councillors got up from their chairs. "But your grace, be careful, the Vale is the only part of the Seven Kingdoms with its hosts and food supplies intact, you do not want to make an enemy of them."

"But such insolence cannot go unpunished", Stannis countered, "the King cannot be subject to the whims of a regent to a boy lord, nothing would sooner destroy you and all you have tried to build Jasper."

Jasper thought it over for a short while before he got to his feet. "Ser Beric", he declared, "Ser Balon and Ser Rolland will remain behind to guard my queen, my children and my unborn heir, the rest of you shall ready you weapons and horses. Ser Guyard, Ser Robar", the two he had just named removed their helms and bowed before him, "you shall gather men, I want three hundred knights ready as well as the ships of the Royal Fleet to carry them, their horses, and their equipment."

"Yes your grace", Ser Guyard replied, as he got to his feet and marched proudly from the room.

"Grandfather", Tywin turned to him, "I trust you can manage things until I return?"

"Of course, Your Grace", he replied.

"Good, Jasper said, "then I want the Dragonpit cleared from the hill by the time I return."

Tywin had a smile on that unnerved Arya, she didn't like it, but the other two councilors and Beric were nodding in agreement. They left the room and Arya and Jasper were alone. "Why must you go in person?" Arya asked Jasper. "You could just send a raven saying all of this."

Jasper got down from the throne and pulled her into his arms, resting his forehead against hers. "I do not intend to give in to her demands Arya", he said simply, "I go there not to return bones, or to name another crime to the list of those false cries of your father. I go there so that I can take Robin Arryn away from his mother."

"You"ll bring my cousin here?" Arya asked, surprised, she had heard that Lysa Arryn was not herself, but was she truly so distraught.

"No", Jasper replied, "I will place him in the custody of Lord Yohn Royce, and name him Warden of the East until Robin comes of age, I will then take Lysa Arryn into custody on suspicion of murdering Jon Arryn, the Hand of the King."

Arya looked up in alarm. "What makes you think she did that?"

Jasper kissed her forehead. "You remember Ser Hugh of the Vale?"

Arya pursed her lips, the name sounded familiar, but she could not put anything to it. "No", she replied.

"He said something to me, at Storm"s End", Jasper said. "And even if it is not enough to convict her of the crime, she will be here, and in no position to make demands of me again."

Arya nodded at his explanation. It made sense, but… "Do not take too long", she told him, she took his hand and once more placed it upon her large belly. "If you miss our daughter's birth, I will never forgive you."

"Daughter?" Jasper asked. "No it is a son."

"How do you know that?"

"I have a feeling", Jasper replied, kissing her lightly. "My feelings are often good."

"Well I have a feeling too", Arya countered.

Jasper circled his arms around her again. "I suppose it matters not", he said looking at her. "Whichever one this one is, we shall have more."

"Yes", Arya replied in a whisper, leaning up to kiss him, "we shall have more."


	66. AFFC Djoran I

_A/N: Okay, so this is the first chapter from the pov of the soldier of New Ghis. I will say now that I have almost certainly taken severe liberties with the canon, given how little we know about New Ghis and it's people (I was hoping for more in The World of Ice and Fire, but all we got was a mention that they were the most important Ghiscari city now). This was harder to write because there is no POV character in the books that is not of Westerosi origin, even Daenerys was raised by Willem Darry, who was of Westeros, and her brother. _

_So, here is a character who approves of slavery and has grown up different to any other character, how do you think I did?_

Steel, the purest thing in the world. Always glinting in the sun, always sharp, always deadly. Steel is the forge of empires and the death of kings. Steel is the exacter of vengeance and the deliverer of justice. All of it came from Steel. And it was Steel that was marching beside Djoran zo Marok as he looked at the ruin of the ancient Ghiscari city of Astapor, smoke and rubble where once there had been tall brick walls, lined with lockstep legions that brought order to the world. But then the Dragons came, and with vile sorcery and raging flaming infernos, they brought the glorious empire of the Ghiscari to its knees. But no more. By the time Djoran zo Marok was done, the last Dragons would be dead and Ghiscar's resurgence would begin, with him at it's head.

Djoran was mounted with his bodyguard force as he looked over the fields outside the Red City of Astapor, or what was left of it. Outside the crumbling walls, a large encampment spread out, although there were some tents of varied colours, undoubtedly belonging to the Sellsword companies, Djoran's lip curled, whilst he could see the use and reasoning behind Sellswords, he made it a point never to trust them, ever. Some of the coloured tents belonged to the second Ghiscari Legion, the one which had arrived by ahead of him. They were due to arrive together but a storm drove his ships off course and made him land several days down the coast from the Red City. He commanded the First Ghiscari Legion, the best of New Ghis, and had held the position for five years now. The men currently serving in the First Legion were well into their second year. He had taken command when the men were in their last year, he had gone with the next set of men for their three year term and was now on the force currently marching down a hill, directly to his right, ready to make camp outside the Red City, ready to attack it and put the slave trade back in place. The majority of the tents were yellow, the colour of Yunkai, and were no doubt occupied by slave soldiers.

His men continued to march, and he could tell by simply listening that they were step by step in time with each other, his legion needed no drums to direct it's march, they fell in step like the legions of old. When he did glance over at them, he saw that all five hundred horsemen, who were at the head of the column, had passed, as had most of the three thousand spearmen. Glancing in the other direction, he saw that his five hundred archers would be next, as they should be, followed by two thousand swordsmen. A full iron legion, one that could be arrayed for battle in moments. However, in the name of the war it appeared to be best that they did not prepare to fight the main battle. Looking at the haphazard nature of the camps of the slave soldiers being used by the Yunkish, he would need to make them fight the main battle in order to bloody them, make them worth something in war, far better that they do it against the weak defences here than against the motivated and well led forces at Meereen, their next destination. However, whether the Yunkish commanders knew that was another question. Djoran had been to Yunkai many times, he had four bed slaves from the city, very skilled and beautiful all of them, far more talented in the bedroom than his wife, although his wife had given him two sons and three daughters. He knew their skill in battle was nothing more than trying to replicate tactics from old tales, which were often embellished for the children, and thinking that their Ghiscari blood alone brought them tactical brilliance. They were wrong, Ghiscari blood brought the right to lordship of their cities, but tactical brilliance was something no slave master, who spent all day listening to honey words through broken souls, would ever understand, and something that Djoran zo Marok knew he would have to teach them.

"Commander", Djoran turned to the sound of his second in command, Marghaz mo Teldak, a fine soldier, who had lost his left hand during a campaign in the Basilisk Isles, a fine campaign with much glory earned by his legion. Despite the loss of his hand, his mind was as sharp as ever, and Djoran often had him, despite his lower birth than some of his other commanders, take control of one of his flanks, or his horsemen. "Shall we descend to the plain? The Yunkish will not want to be kept waiting".

Djoran smirked, "the Yunkish will blame us for arriving late anyway, as if the storms were under our control". Even so, he kicked his horse into action and followed the road down upon Astapor. They overtook the spearmen and horsemen, riding into the Yunkish camp to announce their arrival, although Djoran thought that six thousand men marching down upon them, bearing the banner of New Ghis, was an obvious giveaway.

They dismounted outside the command tent of Yezzan zo Qaggaz, the Yunkish supreme commander, where two slave soldiers stood on guard. The man stank of piss, a poor attempt to mask the smell with perfumes did not help the matter, indeed they only made it worse. The other slavemasters smelled of something as well, be it shit or whore-slaves or worse; maybe that was why they could deal with it. He recognised the two main sellsword commanders, Bloodbeard, of the Company of the Cat, whom he had fought alongside once before, in a campaign on Ax Isle, and his rival, the Tattered Prince, a Pentoshi and captain of the Windblown. Both were in command of formidable sellsword forces and both known for their hared of each other, which is why they were at opposite sides of the tent no doubt. "You must be Djoran zo Marok", said a soft voice, and Djoran looked over at Melessa, a slave mistress, one of very few in the world, and known as Girl General to his men. "We have been waiting for you".

Djoran nodded and took his place at the table, slotting in beside one short slaver and one fat one, neither of whom looked like they had any idea what they were doing here, but wanted to look like they did. They were the kind of people that Djoran hated in war. He had nothing against the slavers, but they should stick to what they know, just as he stuck with what he knew; war. "What is the situation?" He asked, specifically directing the question at the two sellsword commanders.

It was Bloodbeard who answered. "The Astapori have barricaded themselves inside the city, but it is rife with the Bloody Flux".

Djoran could not help but grimace, he had seen the effects of the flux first hand, it had been a second legion accompanying him on campaign, they had been overcome with it, he had ordered his archers to kill any one of them who approached his camp. By the time the flux had passed, less than one thousand of the original six thousand remained, and they had not fought any battles in that time. "We should burn the city", he declared, to the apparent shock of the Yunkish, "only fire destroys the flux, and stone can be rebuilt".

Bloodbeard agreed with him. "There will be enough wealth within the ruins of that city to fund the war, and then you can use profits from Meereen to rebuild Astapor".

The Yunkish, clearly intimidated by Bloodbeard, nodded their heads. This made Djoran roll his eyes as he turned his gaze outside the tent. "What else is there to know?" Marghaz asked, and Djoran turned back to hear their answer.

"The ruler of Astapor has seized the boys of the nobles and is training new Unsullied", Djoran nodded, he had seen the Unsullied on the battlefield, they were very impressive, well trained and disciplined, unbreakably disciplined. The way to defeat them was with siege engines and numbers, once you have broken their cohesion, they become simple spearmen, no better trained than others, if not slightly worse, for Unsullied are not taught to fight independently. In single combat against his swordsmen, Djoran had confidence his men would defeat the scions of Astapor, particularly these Unsullied if they had just been trained.

"They will be defeated", he commented to the slavers, "it will be no difficulty for us".

"You speak with such confidence, Legate Djoran", said one of the slavers who was far beneath him.

Djoran"s lip curled in disgust at the stinking little man. "I have campaigned in the Basilisk Isles and the mainland of Sothoryos", he replied contemptedly, "I have marched across the lands of Old Ghis in the face of steel and famine, I have torn down city walls and broken armies. Half trained boys will not stop me, I shall break them".

"You cannot break the Unsullied", retorted another slaver, another one who was far beneath Djoran and disgraced him with his presence in a command tent. "It is a constant, they do not break".

_How little you know of war_, Djoran thought. "In all my years of battle, I have learned one thing, slaver. Death is the only constant", he declared, and then he pointed at the crumbling walls of Astapor, "and no one inside those walls shall be mine!"

He turned, seeing that it would be pointless to remain, the slavers would simply decide to hold back and wait.

He arrived at the area where his men were setting up camp. It disgusted him that their area to set up their tents was _behind_ the slave soldiers, his men, the best men, should be on the front lines, ready to advance in the vanguard against the walls of the red city. Inside his own tent was one of his bed-slaves. He called her Silver since that was the colour of her hair, pale silver, which contrasted perfectly with her lilac eyes. She was of the blood of the Valyrians, a pleasure slave he had bought from Lys, much as he hated the Valyrians, none could deny that they had a beauty the Ghiscari lacked. She contrasted well with his tanned skin and dark brown hair Other than that she was pale and dressed in loose, simple silver cloth that hid from view her full breasts and wide hips, he did not want any other man leering over his slaves, they were his, and his alone. She smiled at him. "My sweet Legate", she said, gliding over to him and kissing him, "how are you today?"

"Not well", Djoran replied, anger at the slavers still pumping through his veins. "Remove", he said simply, gently tugging at her cloth covering. She smiled and instantly disrobed, laying the cloth over a chair nearby. Djoran marvelled at how Silver was able to keep her body smooth and soft on these journeys, when his own became hard and calloused, it was one of the things that had attracted him to her in the beginning when he had purchased her. She was completely loyal, and had never once considered leaving his side, although he had not branded her, as he had his other slaves, for it would not do to leave a mark on her flawless body, nor had he collared her, she was loyal to him. "Now mine", he said and, faster than his servants could ever do it, she had removed his armour and under armour. When she was done she started kissing him and caressing his soldier's body, tracing every scar with her fingers and lips. He seized her and threw her onto the bed, she only smiled in reaction and he climbed on top of her, shoving his cock inside her warm sheath. As he fucked her she moaned in the most delightful ways, holding onto him and clenching her eyes shut in pleasure. He buried his face into her neck, kissing and licking it as he fast approached the moment of his pleasure, and he spilled inside her, grunting as he did so and, along with his seed, some of the anger and stress left his body, giving him some minor relief. Silver's womb would never quicken, he had given her potions to make sure of that, none of his children would be slave born, he knew people, or rather knew _of_ people who got aroused by sights of their bed slaves waddling around, heavy with their children. They ranged from a master falling in love with their slave to one man, infamous in New Ghis, who beggared himself buying over two hundred fertile bed slaves from Yunkai and Lys, he then impregnated all of them and was left with over three hundred slave-born children within two years. When they grew up, he sold the sons, some of them to Astapor, Djoran found it ironic that he may be facing some of them when he marched on Meereen, and others as servants, slaves and pit fighters. With the daughters, most he used most to create a whorehouse, earning much gold on their maidenheads, however, some he kept to be his own private whores. He had more than made back his investment on the purchases of the slaves, but when it became clear that he was selling and fucking his own family, the authorities stepped in. They confiscated the slaves, took the whorehouse under the control of the city and executed the man. Such dishonour was not permitted in New Ghis. This was why all his children came from his wife, who was back at home, tending to them now. That was her place, the home, his was at the head of his legion, marching to war in the name of the Harpy.

He cuddled up to her, his strong arms encircling her from behind and she nestled into him softly, perfectly. However it was not long before one of his men stuck his head inside the tent, his eyes widening slightly at the sight of Djoran's cock as he got up. But he quickly looked to his face and told him that the camp was set up. Djoran told him to spend an hour running through some training drills with the men, and he left. Silver had snuck up behind him and reached around, stroking his cock with her soft, unblemished hands. "He seemed rather interested in this, sweet Legate", she whispered, and Djoran seized her hand, he would take her again that night, but not yet, he had other things to do.

"Every man has a preference", he said turning to her. "His is men, mine is you".

"You are my preference master", she replied silkily, kissing him again.

Djoran grabbed her face tightly and kissed her full on the lips. "I am your _only_ preference", he declared, "now until you die, when my body lies cold and dead, be it on a slab or a battlefield, you will take my dead cock inside you before you take that of a living breathing man.

"Yes master", she breathed lustily.

Djoran released her, "dress me", he said and she nodded, pulling on his under armour, followed by his cuirass. "Now yourself", he said taking up his sword and shield, "do not remove your clothes again until I return".

She bowed to him, "as you command, my sweet Legate".

Djoran turned and left his tent, closing the flap behind him this time, so none may leer at his property.

He marched through to find Yakhnys, an officer who had served almost as long as he had, with only himself and his second in command having more experience in war. He found him overlooking the drilling of the spearmen with some other officers and swordsmen. "Yakhnys", he called and the man turned to him. "I am unfit", he declared as he approached the group, "it has been too long since I trained".

Yakhnys nodded. "Training swords, Legate?"

Djoran shook his head, "cold steel".

The other officers immediately joined Djoran and Yakhnys on their way to a series of marked circular areas, where his swordsmen could train in single combat. They found an unused one and stepped inside it. Djoran drew his short falcata holding out his left hand for a shield.

It was always good to remain on fighting form, it kept his body limber and able to defend itself. Nothing turns a legion against it"s legate faster than him being unable to fight himself. Whilst his place in the battle line was behind his men, directing them in the best way to advance, he prided himself on being able to fight just as well as any of them. He gave some practice swings before resting in stance. Then he and Yakhnys began to circle each other, waiting to see who would blink first.

It was Yakhnys, Djoran struck like a cobra and slashed at his head, torso and legs in rapid succession, Yakhnys only just being able to counter with his own falcata and shield. Yakhnys tried an overhead slash down upon Djoran"s head, but Djoran ducked, raised his shield and then hacked towards Yakhnys' greaves, but some quick footwork saved the officer's legs from scarring, training with cold steel was no excuse for removing the legs of your partner.

They drew back from each other, readying themselves to go in again, but warhorns sounded, drawing their attention. He nodded to Yakhnys, calling off the training session and rushing to the edge of the camp. The Astapori were sallying out to face them in open battle, it seemed their leaders were more incompetent than the Yunkish ones, they at least would remain behind the walls, for even crumbling, they were a significant obstacle to any attacker. "Form up", he told his officers and he raced back to his tent where Silver already had his helmet ready for him, she passed it to him and did up his strap so that it stayed firmly upon his head, darting in for one last kiss, her soft lips and warm tongue a pleasure to him, before pulling away.

"Stay safe my Legate", she said. Djoran nodded and pulled the chainmail scarf across his face, blocking his nose and below. This was actually a restriction in a way, since it blocked his voice if he wanted to call out an order rather than use flags or drums or trumpets, however, it also made him indescernable from his bodyguard force, and thus, helped him survive to direct his men. He mounted his horse and rode through the camp towards the battle line, which was forming up just behind the Yunkish camp, ready to advance. As was typical, they arranged it so they were in five distinct ranks, each rank being several men deep, the first three ranks were made up of pikemen, who locked their shields together and extended their pikes and spears. Behind them was a rank of archers, their recurve bows allowing them to fire far over the heads of the pike and spearmen without fear of retaliation. Behind them were the swordsmen. They were divided into two blocks, one on either flank, able to counterattack against any foe locked in place by the pike and spearmen. He kept the horsemen around him, as a final reserve to smash through a weakened line.

"Legate", it was Marghaz, approaching him for the battle plan. "Shall we advance?"

Djoran shook his head. "Let us see what the Yunkish make of themselves first, better they be bloodied here than Meereen". Marghaz nodded and rode off to take command of the left flank. Djoran and his legion waited patiently as slavers in togas tried to rally their soldiers who were acting in total chaos, running from one direction to another in the face of the unblooded Unsullied. Djoran sighed as the first few slave soldiers fell to the first of the Unsullied, and so Djoran gave the order. "Iron Teeth", he called out and his men readied their pikes and spears, "advance!" His men marched, trampling over the tents of the Yunkish slave soldiers and locking their shields with those of the Unsullied, many Yunkish slaves caught between them being pierced by men from both sides. It was no contest, his men were battle hardened and well led, they were cutting down the Unsullied before them who were simply poking at their shields fruitlessly, and when the Sellswords got involved the Unsullied were hacked apart, their lines broke and they fled for their walls, only to find that the gates had been shut behind them. His men continued to advance at a constant pace, crushing the remainder of the Unsullied as they froze in terror. Djoran shook his head and the pathetic nature of the battle, and the pathetic skills of the slave soldiers of Yunkai. If they didn"t learn how to fight soon, they would be no hope at all against the fully trained Unsullied in Meereen, under the leadership of Daenerys Targaryen, the Valyrian whore.

Marghaz approached him again, clearly also bored with the swiftness of the battle. "What now Legate?"

Djoran looked over at the command tent of the Yunkish. It seemed of all the slaver high commanders, only Girl General had acted at all, the rest just stood there, dumbfounded and watched as his men won the battle for them. "March on the walls", he told Marghaz. War was his province, he would do what was needed. "Let Astapor burn".


	67. AFFC Jon C I

_A/N: Okay, so answers to some questions coming up. _

_Eddard: Changing the calendar would certainly be a way to help get rid of Targaryen influence, but getting rid of everything Targaryen would be impractical. It would, for example, mean tearing up the roads that Jahaerys the Conciliator built. However it is certainly an option for him._

_Kaioo: I'll answer each one, one at a time here._

_1 – Ironborn do wear armour, they are well known for it since they don't fear drowning.  
2 – If Jasper had declared himself king, then Barristan may have gone to him, but he didn"t so he went to Dany.  
3 – No way the North could call up that many men, it is definitely around 40,000 men, the North is sparsely populated. Robb took 20,000 ish men south, if they could call up so many men, then the Ironborn would never have been able to attack them.  
4 – Anyone can declare trial by combat, accused, accuser or judge, they have all happened in the canon, e.g Beric Dondarrion sentenced the Hound to Trial by combat, he was a judge, and in the Dunk and Egg tales, Aerion Targaryen demands a trial of the Seven, which is in principle the same thing, and he was the accuser. _

Jon looked at the skulls of the former captains of the Golden Company atop their pole. In particular, that of Aegor Rivers, although he should be Targaryen, for he was legitimised on his father's deathbed, but he was always known by his bastard name. Given his support for House Blackfyre, it is likely that he himself never associated with the ruling house, but rather that of his bastard half-brother, also legitimised, Daemon Blackfyre. Such matters were best left to the maesters at Oldtown, for in the Free Companies, a man is who he says he is, but Jon Connington would never renounce his own name. He had pretended to, for many years, trying to raise the boy, the son of the man he had loved and failed in equal measure. In the pursuit of glory he had failed, and that allowed Rhaegar Targaryen to be killed by Robert Baratheon at the Trident, all because he had failed. It would not happen again. Young Aegon had grown to be a fine man: He was trained in arms, as was befitting of a future king and a claimant to a contested throne; he had been taught the principles of the Faith of the Seven since old enough to understand them, there would be no religious fighting to defeat him, only false kings, and possibly a false queen as well; he knew what it was to go hungry, to have to wash his own clothes; he knew fear, the fear of hidden blades and of death. He knew that lordship and kingship were duties to be fulfilled, not rights to be entertained with whatever whim struck his fancy.

Jon looked away from the skulls, the skulls that would, before long, be getting their wish, when the Golden Company made it's return to Essos, to seat Aegon the sixth on the throne. He watched as a patrol of men from the Golden Company made their way forward, the officer had four arm rings on, a four year veteran of the company, one year longer and he would match Jon's own record, but with the ambition of Aegon's plan, it may well be that he perished before then. Had Jon remained in the company, instead of faking exile and death to raise Aegon, it may well have been him that the man answered to, rather than Harry Strickland.

"Jon", Jon turned at the sound of the voice, it was Tristan Rivers, someone Jon knew from his days in the company. "The officers are assembled, the Company is ready to march, but we need to finalise our plan for landing in Westeros". Jon nodded and followed his friend to the command tent of the Golden Company, where plans for the invasion of Westeros would be made.

"Invading Westeros now would be harder than even a few moons ago", Laswell Peake said. The captains and officers were gathered, the only ones who knew of the intention to return to Westeros. "With the war over and what appears to be a competent king on the new throne, it will not be easy to find a landing zone that is not hostile".

Jon agreed with that assessment, but with Daenerys taking far too long in Meereen, they didn't have an option. Tristan Rivers agreed with him, it seemed. "The entire eastern coast would appear to be too fortified to strike. The western coast was where the damage was dealt, but the Royal Fleet"s patrols would never let an invading force sail around Dorne".

"Dorne", said another officer, Marq Mandrake, a pox scarred veteran. "Our Aegon possesses the blood of Elia of Dorne, and Oberyn Martell in particular has been crying out for vengeance against the Lannisters and Baratheons for the murders of Elia and her daughter, her son as well, for he did not know of his survival, Dorne will surely side with us".

"One kingdom of seven", Harry Strickland said, "given Dornish losses in the War of the Four Kings we cannot guarantee their support. Indeed", he continued, Harry Strickland had always been overly cautious to Jon, it was a wonder he was chosen to command the company. "Given Doran Martell's notorious caution, he may not believe that Aegon is who he claims". Jon could tell from his tone that Harry had doubts about it as well. It was an obstacle that would be eliminated as soon as Aegon was sat upon the throne, but still, an obstacle nonetheless.

"Do you doubt Harry?" Asked Tristan Rivers.

Harry snorted, "I do not intend to have my head carried across to Westeros on a banner", he declared to the officers, and they seemed satisfied. Jon was at least. "We simply need more support than Dorne".

"One step at a time", Laswell Peake said, "this Eightstone Throne will not be won in a day, there will be many battles ahead, if you enter one thinking of the other, the first battle is lost". Jon nodded in his agreement with Laswell's point. He had entered Stony Sept during the Battle of the Bells ready to fight Robert Baratheon, instead he should have burned the town to the ground, but he did not, and that led to Rhaegar's death.

It was at that point that Aegon entered the tent, accompanied by Rolly Duckfield as always, and resplendent in black armour with a red dragon on the front of it, a red dragon made from rubies. It made Jon's heart leap into his throat, he remembered the design well, it was the same design of armour that Rhaegar had worn, it had fitted him better than it fitted Aegon, but Jon was sure that Aegon would grow into it. The captains all bowed their heads to their newly sworn king. None of them dropped to their knees, which was understandable, for, whilst they had sworn their allegiance to him, they were still sellswords, the finest and most loyal of sellswords, but sellswords none the less, dropping to their knees was not what they were meant to do. Hopefully they would once more when the Golden Company had seated the rightful king upon the throne of Westeros and destroyed the line of the usurper.

Aegon however, did not say anything. It had been his suggestion to sail west rather than go and assist Daenerys in the East, a suggestion that the officers had taken well, due to being tired of waiting for her to come to them in order to invade. Now however, at a suggestion Jon had given him earlier, he allowed the experienced men of war before him to finalise the battle plans for the initial invasion of Westeros.

"First things first", Jon said to them, and their eyes snapped to him in respect, "we need to find a way of getting enough ships to transport us across the Narrow Sea and to battle the Royal Fleet should we need to".

"Only the free cities have those kinds of fleets, and I do not know that any of them are willing to do so", Harry Strickland said.

"Volantis has five hundred ships in its fleet, more than double what the Royal Fleet can float", said Laswell.

Tristan Rivers shook his head, "I went to Volantis a week ago, they are engaging in rhetoric against Daenerys Targaryen. Their fleet is readying to sail against her".

Several of the captains sneered, grateful that they had decided against siding with the girl queen in the east, for the Volantene Fleet was not to be sneered at, it would take them far longer to defeat the slaving coalition if Volantis sailed against her. "We have been contacted by the Volantenes actually", said the paymaster Gorys Edoryen, who was from Volantis himself and had been one of the ones most in favour of going to save Daenerys Targaryen. "They wish us to purge the Red Temple of the fire priests in return for a large sum of money, we could instead accept the offer on the condition that they transport us to Westeros in their ships".

That idea held merit, but Lorimas Mudd shut it down. "The Red Temple has its own force of guards, ten thousand strong, half of the city guards follow the faith of the Lord of Light, if we purge the temple, we would be successful, but we would also take casualties, something we do not need on the eve of an invasion of Westeros".

Several Serjeants agreed with him, so the company decided that the attack on the Red Temple would be a backup plan instead. "What about the Fat Man", said Tristan Rivers, "he had us break a contract, dishonour our name, go to him, insist he give us the ships to get to Westeros". Jon held back a smile at the reference to Ilyrio Mopatis, the man had helped save the boy, he would be grateful for that.

"Pentos is just as unlikely to part with their ships than Volantis", said John Mudd, "and the Fat Man is a supporter of the girl queen, why should he give us ships to go the other way to her, no he will give us ships on the condition that we go east, we are to go west".

"More than that", Laswell Peake added, "Pentos has very few ships to offer, the Braavosi have banned them from floating more than thirty, and hiring sellswords is also forbidden, the Fat Man is a coward, he would not risk the destruction of his city or his own life. That would be the case, for the other Magisters would throw him to the Sealord in chains".

"I thought the Magisters sacrificed their princes to the pyres when necessary", said John Mudd.

Laswell nodded, "they do, but if we go there with knowledge that Ilyrio had hired us they would have no choice but to hand him over to the Braavosi".

Aegon spoke now, "Ilyrio Mopatis has sought my aunt to be on the throne since the death of my uncle", he said, "he wants us both, not one of us, even if he had the ships, he would only force us to go to her, and I will not go to her a beggar".

Jon knew that he spoke the truth, Ilyrio wanted both Aegon and Daenerys on the throne, he would not have one without the other. At that point Aegon cleared his throat and stepped up to continue, they all looked at him, and Jon was interested to see how the future king would act and what he would now say. "We talk of taking ships", he said, "but where shall we sail them once we have them, we need a landing site and we need to know it now, if we take enough ships to transport us before we know where we will land then we shall be in trouble. I say that we accept Volantis' offer to purge the Red Temple of Volantis for speaking out in support of my aunt, then rest and recouperate the strength of the company. Whilst you do that", he said to Harry Strickland, "Lord Jon and I shall take a single ship to Dorne with a small escort, we shall gain the allegiance of the Dornish and then, when we have it, the company lands there, that way we avoid a possible costly and disastrous encounter with the Royal Fleet".

"Land in Dorne and the Martells can capture or sell you to the king as they wish", said Tristan Rivers.

Aegon shook his head, "the Martells are family, they would not hurt me", he sounded naïve, but he had a point, there was no chance of Prince Oberyn killing his sister"s blood. "We shall also play on the weaknesses of the Reach", he said, "there are many houses there who dispute House Tyrell's claim to Highgarden and, with House Tyrell having just lost a war, there will be many seeking to profit from that, there are also houses loyal to my own in the Riverlands, we can gain them all".

"The North and Stormlands would never bow to you", Laswell Peake pointed out, "how would you win?"

Aegon smiled, "I will not plan so far ahead, it would not do, for now, if Jon and I go then it would at least tell us whether Dorne is a suitable Landing site for the rest of the company".

Jon nodded, "it is mostly a good plan", he said and they looked at him. "I will make one change to it", Aegon raised his eyebrows, "I go ahead first, to see if the Dornish will hear you out, then you come after me".

"Why?" Aegon asked.

"Because", Jon replied, "I did not raise you all these years to die now, I will go to Dorne by ship as soon as possible with as few men as possible, then you will attack the Red Temple two weeks after that. We shall continue from there". The Captains of the Golden Company nodded, and so did Aegon.

_Now it begins, Robert Baratheon, Prince Rhaegar, I will seat the true king upon the Throne of Westeros. _


	68. AFFC Arya II

_A/N: Okay, let's settle the issue, for those who think I am wrong about the number of men the North could raise. Consider my number, 40,000 ish at most, another deviation from the canon. Believe whatever you want about the canon, but from the numbers we are given in A Dance with Dragons, I do not believe I am too wrong._

Arya waited as the ship from the North arrived, on it, if the letter from her brother was to be believed, was her mother, a number of Stark household men and thirty more guardsmen to protect her, she had insisted they would not be necessary, but Robb had made it clear in his letter that he did not care about that, and that they would be coming anyway. She rested her hand on her now very large swollen belly, caressing it softly, she could almost feel the child move underneath. It was a strange and wonderful feeling that she could not explain, hopefully her mother would be able to shed some light on the matter. Next to her was the pox marked Ser Rolland, a skilled and pleasant man and, of the new Kingsguard, apart from Ser Beric, he fit his cloak the best of all of them. There were another dozen guardsmen of House Baratheon around them, which was probably one of the reasons the dock workers were going about their business whilst not looking at them, or that might have been Nymeria. As soon as the ship was moored, one of Robb's new fleet or so she heard, in between the _King Robert's Hammer_ and _Winter's Fury_, and the ramp descended, Arya smiled to see that her mother was the first one to descend. She had to hold back from rushing to her, it had been too long since she had seen her mother, and she was glad to see her again. Her mother rushed over to her and embraced her fiercely, although she was careful not to press too hard on Arya's bulging belly. "Arya", she whispered as Arya hugged her back. "I've been so worried."

"Worry not mother", Arya replied, "I am fine, the war is done. I am safe."

"And queen", her mother said, looking at her with tears in her eyes. "And with child." Arya smiled and took her mother's hand, placing it on her belly, making her smile. By this time, the household had begun to disembark, the guards, the helpers, all of them.

Arya turned to two of the guardsmen, "you two, wait for the rest of the household and lead them back once everything is unpacked."

"As you say your grace", one of them replied. Arya escorted her mother, with Ser Rolland, back to the Red Keep.

The streets of King's Landing were far cleaner and more organised than they were when Arya had first arrived in King's Landing with her father. Back then they had been tumultuous cesspits of barely organised chaos, only the occasional lord riding down the street with his guardsmen at his back parted the crowds. But now, patrols of the City Watch walked the streets neatly in line, their spears held in strong, determined grips, as they marched down street after street, unobstructed by the crowds who parted to let them through as they all went about their business for the day. At the crossroads of the streets, more men of the City Watch stood sentinel, watching out for crime and discontent. Say whatever you like about the Kingslayer, he had ably transformed the City Watch as Master of Laws.

When they arrived back in her chambers, they relaxed upon recliners, in private, although she knew that Ser Rolland stood outside her doors, which meant that Ser Balon, the other knight of the Kingsguard to remain behind, was watching over the royal bastards.

The two of them were silent, for Arya was not sure what to say, she had not seen her mother in years, and here she was, she looked a little older, but apart from that, she looked just as she had always done, in Arya's eyes. She was thankful therefore, that it was her mother who started the conversation. "I never would have imagined you would be my first child to be married." Arya joined her smile at that, she suspected that no one would have, not one person.

"Nor would I", she told her mother, "nor would I have thought that I would bear your first grandchild", she stroked her belly fondly.

"No", her mother said, smiling a little sadly, "I would have thought that it would be Robb or Sansa."

"How are they?" Arya asked, she had not seen either for a very long time.

Her mother smiled a wider smile this time, "well", she replied, "Robb is betrothed to Wynafryd Manderly, with the date for the wedding due to be set, and Sansa is happily back at home, but Robb is looking into arranging a suitable marriage for her."

"As long as he isn't like Joffrey", Arya muttered.

Her mother laughed, "Robb would not let that be the case, he is making sure they are all suitable."

Arya smiled, glad, she would not have her sister be hurt in marriage, not when she felt a little guilty about marrying Jasper, for Sansa had always dreamed of becoming queen of Westeros, and for Arya to take the title may have hurt her a bit, if it did, she did not show it, but Arya still felt bad about it. But she did not regret it either. "What about Robb's lords?" Arya asked, "how did they take him bending the knee?" She had always wondered what they thought, for they had fought for him, won every battle they fought, and Robb still knelt, she would be angry, but she wondered about the others.

"Most are… pleased with the result", her mother told her, in a tone that suggested it was a half truth. "They won glory, never knew defeat and did not suffer hostages being taken. Westeros knows Northern power once again. Those who lost sons and brothers got their vengeance a thousand fold. And some have even come out better. Lord Bolton has taken one of Jonos Bracken's daughters as his wife, Harrion Karstark has married one of Lord Umber's daughters and others besides. Some wanted the war to continue, they wanted to fight for victory, but most knew that they couldn't win, not against the numbers that the south could summon against them." She looked over at Arya, "do not fear for your brother, he is as loved in the North as your father was." Arya nodded, glad for her brother, but at the same time missing Winterfell and it's comforts, it's walls, it's godswood, all of it. Nymeria, who was now larger than the largest hounds, larger than most wolves according to hunters, was the only true reminder she had of those times. Her hand drifted from her belly and onto Nymeria's fur, stroking it lightly.

They were silent again for a time, but then her mother once more broke it, asking, "have you and Jasper thought of any names for the child yet?"

Arya bit her lip, "not really", she answered sheepishly, "we both mostly avoid the topic."

"You must have some idea", her mother pressed.

But Arya shook her head, "I can think of nothing", she said, "every name I think of just sounds… wrong somehow."

Her mother nodded in understanding, "I remember well", she told her, "I had so many names picked out for Robb, Torrhen, since he was a northern boy, Brynden, for my uncle, but when he was born, when I held him in my arms, I knew he was Robb, he just was. Maybe your little prince or princess will have that effect on you."

Arya nodded, "I hope so."

Her mother then caught sight of the book on her desk. Getting up she read the cover and looked at her with an arched eyebrow. "The Lineages and Histories of the Great Houses of the Seven Kingdoms?" She asked, "you have truly changed Arya to be interested in that."

"It's not that", Arya replied hastily. Then she looked down, "Father was reading that book before he…" she tightened her jaw and closed her eyes. "Jasper has been unable to determine why father was killed by asking people, they tell him half-truths, he knows it but cannot prove it. I am trying to work out why he died by following his footsteps."

Her mother's face had hardened as well, "and have you?"

Arya shook her head, "there is nothing in it. I assume that it was something to do with House Lannister but nothing there seems out of the ordinary." Her mother nodded, opening the book to the Lannister page and bringing it back to the recliner. She looked down it, lips pursed.

"I agree", she said, after a while, "there is nothing about Lady Cersei that would seem to indicate why."

Arya nodded, "I have looked at her so many times, given that it was probably her fault, but there is nothing there."

"It may not be in this book", her mother pointed out, "your father may have discovered something else."

Arya nodded, "but I do not know where else it might be."

"The truth will be found Arya", she said, getting up and she sitting down on Arya's recliner. "Do not fear that."

Arya nodded, "I know."

Her mother looked down at the book again. Her eyes narrowing slightly, but she closed it shortly. "Maybe some new eyes will uncover something. I'll have a look later." Arya smiled, glad that her mother was willing to help her do this, she had been worried that she would not want to open old wounds by investigating it. "So where is the king?" She asked.

"On the way to the Vale, with many men and most of the Kingsguard", she explained, "he intends to replace Aunt Lysa with someone else as regent of the Vale."

Her mother did not seem too shocked. Rather she nodded, "I have been to the Vale recently", she revealed, "Lysa is not as she was when we were children. She fears for her life, for her son"s, far more than she should, he is sheltered and still suckling." The thought made Arya cringe, how could anyone allow a ten year old to suckle them. She shuddered at the thought of a newborn doing so, when she had confided in Jasper, he had told her he would bring in a wetnurse for their child. Her mother looked over at her, "did he say who he meant to name regent?"

Arya thought back, "Lord Yohn Royce I think, his son Robar is on the Kingsguard."

Her mother nodded, "a noble lord, a worthy regent of the Vale."

"I don't remember him well", Arya said, she knew he had come to Winterfell, either on his way to or back from dropping his son off at the Wall, Sansa had been in love with that son. Wymar or something, she could not remember the name, perhaps she would ask Ser Robar when he returned with Jasper.

"He was much like your father", she explained, "honourable and strong."

"His son Robar is much the same", Arya commented, she had trained with Robar many times before Jasper's child nestled inside her.

Her mother looked over the book again, opening it at the House Royce for sentimental value, before once more looking at House Lannister, tracing the line up from Lord Tywin"s children. Then her eyebrows raised. "Cersei was not the first Lannister woman to marry a Baratheon lord, ninety years ago, Tya Lannister married Gowen Lannister, they had a child, like Jasper, but he died."

"Like Jasper how?"

"Black haired, blue eyes."

"Strange", Arya commented, "they seem more likely to have gold hair and green eyes."

Her mother nodded, "you'd think wouldn't you, based on Robert's children." Then, as she traced her fingers up further and saw something else. "Thirty years before, a Lannister lord took a Baratheon maid as his wife. Their children all had black hair as well."

"All of them?" Arya asked. Her mother nodded. "Can I see the book?" Her mother nodded again and passed the book over to her. Arya confirmed what her mother had said and then flicked the pages back to House Baratheon. Tracing her finger up the line, she saw that the founder of the House, Orys Baratheon, had black hair and black eyes, his wife, Argella Durrandon also had black hair, but blue eyes, deep blue eyes. All their children, and their children's children all the way down to Robert Baratheon and his brothers Stannis and Renly, had black hair and blue eyes. She looked back at House Lannister, and saw that House Lannister was not completely loyal to the line of Lann the Clever"s looks, there was variation from other houses brought in. Tywin Lannister had married his cousin Joanna, both of whom had Lann's looks, so it was no surprise that his children were golden haired and green eyed. But that did not explain why Joffrey, Tommen and Myrcella were not black haired and blue eyed. She told her mother all of this, who's eyes widened slightly.

"It might explain it", her said quietly, she had been looking over his shoulder. "Cersei Lannister's cousin may not have been here, but her brother was."

Arya realised what she was suggesting and her mouth fell open. "She wouldn't do that would she?"

"I think she did", her mother said, "and I think that is what your father discovered."

A thought came into Arya's mind, "King Robert died on a hunt", she whispered, "if he died before father could tell him, that would explain why he was unable to act."

Her mother's face paled. "Your father died before he could tell the king, now we know, and once more the king is not here to be told."

Arya looked up, suddenly very glad that her brother had sent guardsmen to help defend her. "We may now need some food tasters", she told her mother, "We must tell Jasper when he returns."

Once more, her mother nodded, "he must learn the truth, Cersei Lannister's crime must be unveiled. She caused war and bloodshed, and she must pay the price for that."

_But she will only do so if we are still alive when Jasper returns._


	69. AFFC Jasper I

Jasper felt glad to get off _Winter's Fury_, he was perfectly happy with sea voyages, but the stink of vomit from those he had brought with him who were not was becoming almost unbearable. The hard wood port of Gulltown was perhaps the most alien major port to Jasper in Westeros. He had been to Oldtown when he had visited Highgarden, and Lannisport when he had been to Casterly Rock. White Harbour was also the path Jasper took when he went to Winterfell most of the time, so he knew the seat of House Manderly well enough, but with Lord Arryn in the capital, Jasper had only been to the Vale a few times, and most of the time he went there, he went overland, through the Mountains of the Moon. He marched through the town, for he had arranged things so that his column of guardsmen would meet outside the walls of Gulltown for the march to the Eyrie. Outside the walls of the town, if he had received his raven, Lord Yohn Royce should be there with an escort of knights of the Vale to accompany him to the Eyrie. Sure enough, there he was, with close to fifty knights, all armoured and bearing the sigil of House Royce of Runestone. Robar, who was accompanying Jasper, looked most pleased at seeing his father again, but neither father nor son did anything undignified.

"Lord Yohn", Jasper greeted, to which the aging Lord of Runestone smiled.

"Your Grace", he replied, bowing in the saddle of his horse. "I hope you are well."

"Well enough", Jasper replied, "but it is sour business I have at the Eyrie."

Lord Yohn nodded humbly. "I received your raven, your grace", he said, "I questioned the boy knight myself, he corroborated your tale, I still find it hard to believe that Lady Lysa had a hand in her husband's death."

"More than one, it would seem", he said, "but perhaps it would be better for the Vale for her to be taken away anyhow."

"About that", Lord Yohn said, as Jasper's column of guardsmen and the rest of his accompanying knights and Kingsguard exited Gulltown. I think it would be better for her to remain here, Lord Arryen was beloved by everyone in the Vale, even those who sided against him in your father's rebellion. Let justice be served here."

Jasper's lips tightened. "That would be risky, Lord Royce", he told the lord, "Lord Edmure may not take well if you decide to execute his sister."

"Lord Edmure is most displeased at his sister Lysa for not assisting him in the war", Lord Yohn replied. Jasper could not tell from Lord Yohn's voice whether he had wanted her to or not, he decided not to press the issue. "He will not object to fiercely. It may even be that we banish Lady Lysa back to Riverrun, a sign of mercy, also it would not do to execute our lord's mother."

Jasper nodded, that was a sound plan, even if he hated the thought of Lysa Arryn escaping justice for her wrongful murder with anything but death. It left a bad taste, but he knew that politics mattered, and he wanted both the Riverlands and the Vale on his side when the Targaryen girl landed with her army and her dragons. He looked behind him and saw that his column of men were ready to ride, so turned to Lord Yohn. "Lead the way Lord Yohn." Lord Yohn nodded and spurred his horse into action, he and his knights leading the way to the Eyrie.

It was shortly after they left that Beric approached Lord Yohn and asked. "Are we likely to be ambushed by clansmen on the road?" Jasper knew he was thinking back to one of his few trips to the Eyrie, when his party had been ambushed by Clansmen and it was only thanks to a passing patrol of knights that they had not been killed or carried off.

Lord Yohn shook his head, looking up at the mountains as he answered, "my knights have been riding this road frequently ever since you sent the raven, your grace, and a party this size would dissuade them anyway." Beric nodded and fell back into place behind Jasper.

They arrived at the base of the Eyrie, awaiting Mya and the mules in order to traverse the mountain path. Jasper averted his eyes from his half-sister a little, thinking back to how close he had come to engaging in an act worthy of the Targaryens. Thankfully, she either didn't remember how close they had come, or didn't pay attention to it, and she took Jasper, his Kingsguard, Lord Royce and some of his knights up the path to the Eyrie. Meanwhile the food basket carried up some more of his men. This was what Jasper was nervous about. At any other castle he could bring all his guardsmen into the castle to help him, but the Eyrie's complicated defences made that impossible, if the Knights of the Vale inside the Eyrie didn't believe his tale, then he may as well be a dead man, then conflict would break out again. Stannis would support his unborn heir, as was stated in his will, to succeed him, but no doubt his mother would crown Tommen king. Thankfully, he had his sword and his Kingsguard were armed and ready to fight if need be.

They entered the Eyrie and saw a number of noble guests present. Lysa Arryn sat upon the heartwood throne, thankfully, for the sake of Jasper's eyes, she was not feeding her son, she was simply bouncing him upon her knee. The boy was gleeful, but also weak, Jasper could see from here that unless he was raised properly, and soon, he would die. Even if he was raised properly, the chances of him growing up tall and strong, or living to the age of his father, were slim to say the least. "Lady Lysa", Jasper greeted.

"Your Grace", she replied, looking smug upon the heartwood throne. "It is good to see that you have responded to my demands."

Jasper looked to Beric and Lord Yohn, both armed, and both of them nodded. "I am not here to grant what you demanded of your king, Lady Lysa", Jasper said simply. "I am here to order your arrest and imprisonment, for the murder of your lord husband, Jon Arryn, Lord of the Eyrie, Lord Paramount of the Vale, Warden of the East and Hand of the King." Gasps emanated from many nobles around the room, who looked at their lady incredulous. Jasper's Kingsguard and guardsmen, together with Lord Yohn's knights drew their weapons. The knights of the Vale who were to defend Lysa looked unsure of how to act. They had loved Jon, and if it was true, then they had been serving his murderer. Robin began to wail. "It is too much noise!" He shouted like a baby, "make it stop mother!"

Lysa tried to soothe the boy, but he began to shake violently. Maester Colemon tried to take the boy, but Lady Lysa instead held him tightly and pushed the maester away "How dare you make such an accusation!"

"How dare you murder Jon Arryn", Jasper countered. "Now I will ask this only once, my lady", he said, drawing High Justice, it's faint glow lighting up the room a little. "Come down from there and be taken into custody, to resist your king is a crime."

Lysa Arryn it seemed, had now taken complete leave of her senses. "I will not, I did nothing, he was wrong, Jon was wrong, he was to take my boy away! The Queen was going to steal him! Lord Stannis was going to steal him. I wouldn't let them!" She rushed down the steps from the throne, her son clutched to her tightly. As one, the knights of the Vale moved to block the doors leading from the room, she was hysterical, rushing about, from side to side, Robin shaking in her arms. "YOU WILL NOT TAKE MY SON FROM ME!" She screamed, and rushed to the moon door, which had been open since before Jasper entered the Eyrie, and flung herself, Robin with her, out of it. A dozen men tried to grab her, but they were too slow, the screaming of mother and son died out as they fell to their deaths.

Silence permeated the room, shock at what had just happened being the reason. "What happens now?" One knight asked. Jasper was unsure, Robin had no brothers or cousins that he was aware of, who was to inherit the Eyrie?

He asked the room, "who is… or was Robin's heir?"

It was Ser Donnel Waynwood, the Knight of the Gate, who answered. "That would be Harrold Hardyng", he said, "ward of Lady Anya Waynwood."

"A valiant and noble boy", Lord Yohn added, "I knighted him myself not long ago."

"Are there any other claimants?" Jasper asked, he could not have a disputed succession in the Vale now.

"None will challenge the boy's right to rule", Ser Donnel replied, "he is beloved of the Vale."

Jasper nodded, "then summon the boy to the Eyrie at once", he said, and I will bestow upon him his rights."

"At once your grace", Ser Donnel said, heading for the ravens.

Harrold Hardyng arrived a week later. Lord Yohn informed him that, by law of the Vale, he was to be adopted into House Arryn and take that name. Jasper understood well enough, it was common enough practice across Westeros for a son, who inherited through a woman married into a lower house, to adopt the house that was of greater blood. It would also make little sense for the Vale of Arryn to be called such with no Arryn to rule it.

The young boy, fifteen apparently, had sandy brown hair cut close to his head, atop a muscular frame, his eyes were a deep blue, not as dark as Jasper's own blue eyes, but sill deep. He looked more like a knight than a lord, which made sense Hardyng was a knightly house not a lordly one. However he had also adopted the colours of Arryn, with a blue and white hauberk covering a mail shirt, even though the Hardyng sigil was still on the front. He had a longsword on his left hip and a thin knife on his right one. He was accompanied by several knights and retainers both from his own house and from House Waynwood, Lady Anya's house. "Your Grace", he said, dropping to one knee.

'Ser Harrold", Jasper greeted approaching him. "I apologise I cannot afford to stay long, so let us get this done. Do you swear fealty to your king, to rule the Vale with honour and talent, to dispense justice fairly and correctly. To protect the realm, and answer the call of your king in times of war?"

"I do so swear, by all the gods", he replied, solemnly.

"Then rise, Harrold of the House Arryn, Lord of the Eyrie, Lord Paramount of the Vale and Warden of the East."


	70. AFFC Daenerys I

_There was a boy, crouching in the middle of a clearing in a dark forest. Dany could see him through the cracked branches. His hands covered his face as he cried out into the damp filthy moss. She tried to reach him, another child that needed saving, she knew it, she would help him, he would not suffer any longer. She would take him in her arms, nurture him, be strong for him and shield him from whatever pain he suffered. She tried to force her way through the thick brambles, her dress tearing and blood flowing from new cuts to her arms and legs. The boy looked up at the sound of her approach and Dany froze when she saw his face. It was liquid shadow, murky and swirling like mist. And then it began flowing, black blood pouring down over his clothes and coating the grasses. He cried out to the heavens this time, asking for forgiveness for his sins. Dany would forgive him, he was but a child, what could he have done. But the branches ensnared her and held her back. She tried to cry out for the child to come to her, to be calm, that nothing would hurt him, but another thick bramble curled around her throat and constricted her breathing. She gagged, barely able to suck in enough air to stay awake. _

_Then a blinding light descended from the heavens, Dany shut her eyes tightly but it still got through to her. Slowly she opened them as the light began to dim and take the shape of a woman. She wore a dress of sea blue, indeed the colours seemed to swirly like the sea, and her hair was blue as the sky. She took the child into her arms, and whispered to it softly, holding it close. Dany looked on in awe as the child stopped crying and stood up strong. He also stood up tall, he was no longer a boy, but a full grown man, at his feet rested a babe of his own. But this babe's face was different, it was not only black shadow, but also shadow of silver, the two sides in constant conflict, a silver much like her own hair colour. Then a shadow fell upon them, above them was a dragon, scales as black as night as he began to burn down the forest. Dany could resist the flames, she was blood of the dragon, but these ones were not. She screamed at them, begging them to flee the ferocious flames lapping at them like hounds. But the shadow man did not flee, he stood in front of his child and drew a sword from his belt. He held it up and prepared to face the dragon as flames engulfed Dany. _

Dany woke up, sweating and shaking, she had had the dream four times in as many months and still it did not abate. She looked past the curtains and saw that it was still dark. She moved over to the other side of the bed, wrapped herself up in the covers and went back to sleep, eager not to have the dream again.

Daenerys had woken to the grey light of dawn cresting over the continent, lighting up the waters of Slaver's bay, over which her chambers overlooked. Meereen looked so peaceful now, in the light of dawn, so tame, but she knew that all that would change soon, within a few hours she would be hearing about more murders committed by Sons of the Harpy, more citizens dissatisfied with her regime or demanding something from her in recompense for her freeing of the slaves. She stepped out onto the balcony and looked to the south. Red smoke still rose into the sky, mingling with the clouds in a strange tapestry of woven fabrics that would be considered beautiful, if it weren't for their meaning. The tapestry in the sky mourned the passing of the Red City of Astapor. The smoke had begun rising several weeks ago, but it was only in the last few days that refugees, mostly carrying the pale mare, as Ser Barristan and Ser Jorah called it, or the Bloody Flux, as Daario less eloquently put it, had begun arriving. Since then, the tales of the sack of the city had begun to terrify her people, she suspected only her being the Mother of Dragons had kept the city in some semblance of order, that and the Unsullied. She had heard how the Astapori had sallied out from the city in an attempt to defeat it's enemies, only to be cut down to a man by the slaver coalition. The gates had been closed, but they were soon broken down by them, and a strong army had poured through the gates, sellswords, slave soldiers and iron legions from New Ghis had poured into the city, putting it to the torch far more effectively than she had. The Sellswords sacked the pyramids, leaving with most of the plunder from them, meanwhile the legions, an imitation of her Unsullied by all accounts, had methodically set the city ablaze, building by building, street by street, not one building did not feel the flames. Even the temples, where the old, young, frail and sick had gathered, were not spared, the legions barred every entrance to them and then set the ablaze. The witnesses remembered still, the shrieks that had emanated from them, renting the sky like cries of steel and pain.

She shuddered, news of the attack had made her even more determined to leave Meereen only when it was safe from the Yunkish and all others who would try to take it. Then she would leave and recover her birthright from the Usurper's heir in Westeros, this Jasper Baratheon, whom Ser Barristan thought so highly of. She wondered why her knight thought so, for he had nothing but praise for her brother Rhaegar, yet the boy's father had killed him in cold blood, in a wrongful rebellion. However, as she thought of asking Ser Barristan about him, she saw something further on the horizon, yet another ship was entering the bay, it's sails billowing in the eastern wind as it moved to join the huge number of ships already in the bay. The fleet was rapidly growing as more and more cities and nations joined the Yunkish Coalition against her, determined to re-establish slavery. But it would not return to Meereen, not whilst she could help it. She turned and called in her handmaidens, who helped her into a light blue dress and she got ready to continue learning how to rule, to be the Queen that Westeros needed.

She found five Unsullied waiting outsider her room. Ever since the assassination attempts had increased in number, Ser Jorah and Ser Barristan had insisted she have permanent guards, but they could not be with her all the time and, given that she wanted both of them at her council meetings, she could not have one a night and one during the day. Grey Worm had stepped up, saying that the Unsullied would happily defend her. Her people were investigating the city, trying to find the cause, for it did not seem to be just the masters targeting her, but foreigners and former slaves as well. Hopefully, her council would have news for her.

She found them waiting for her and she greeted them with a smile. "What news?"

"The Yunkish are three day's march from the city", Daario explained. "They have driven thousands of refugees before them who are pleading for entrance to the city."

Dany shook her head, "I cannot allow that, the flux will tear through this city." _I cannot let those who need me suffer that fate, no queen could_. "Do we have any information about Yunkish numbers?"

Ser Jorah was the one who answered this. "Given the number of freemen who followed us from Yunkai, the number of slave soldiers will be not be absurdly large, probably no more than twenty thousand, poorly trained as well."

"Sellsword numbers are likely to be smaller, only true fools outnumber their forces with men who fight for coin."

"It will likely be the allies of Yunkai that provide the majority of the soldiers, New Ghis, Tolos, Mantarys, Elyria", the last three names that Ser Barristan gave left a bad taste on Daenerys' tongue, she had attempted to court these other cities to her side, instead, they had joined Yunkai in opposing her. She only nodded in reply, what else could she do but wait, if she abandoned the city she had lost, and her birthright would forever remain in the hands of the Usurpers. No, she would stay, Ser Barristan and Ser Jorah, who had experience of war, would help her lead the defence of Meereen should it come to battle, or she would secure peace with the city, for her children and all those who looked up to her as mother.

"What of the assassins?" She asked the table, hoping that there was some news of them.

Barristan and Jorah looked awkwardly at each other before Jorah answered her. "News is spreading from the west", he began, "rumours circulating every port, every town and city from Braavos to Volantis. He who kills the master of a dragon supposedly becomes the master of that dragon."

Daenerys' eyes widened. "Is that true?"

"None still live that could attest to it", Barristan replied, "but I remember nothing of that from the stories, far more likely is that they are rumours, spread by the Yunkish, to get more on their side."

"Not so", said Daario, "I heard that the rumours originated in Westeros."

"Westeros?" Daenerys asked, and Daario nodded.

Jorah sighed, "it seems as though the new king has heard of your dragons and is aiming to eliminate you before you can challenge him."

Barristan made to interrupt, but Daario got there first. "He is scared of the dragons, we can defeat him with them, cow him into submission."

"No", Barristan said looking at him. "Say what you like about Jasper, but that boy would not be scared of dragons, he would be more determined to defeat them. And Jasper would not spread such rumours, it is not like him."

"Kingship may have changed him", Jorah argued.

"Or the war", Daario added, but Barristan remained adamant.

"Jasper would not start such rumours, his advisers might, it would not be a stretch for Tywin Lannister, but not Jasper, I will believe that only when I have heard it from his own mouth."

Dany looked at him curiously. "You truly believe in him Ser Barristan?"

"Had Jasper Baratheon been the first from his mother's womb, I would not be here." He was speaking the truth, Daenerys could see it in his eyes, he truly did believe in the Usurper's son. _Is he only loyal to me having sworn his oath?_ She wondered, but she knew he would not break it, so it mattered not.

"Should we counter the rumours?" Daenerys asked.

"It would make no difference", said Daario. "If there is even a chance that a man could control a dragon he will take it. He will believe that rumour as long as it is better for him. It will be better to let the attackers come and to kill them when they do. Eventually they will stop."

Dany was not convinced that they would stop, but there was simply no way to disprove these rumours. Hopefully, as the death toll of assassins increased, they would simply decide it was too hard and leave her and her children alone. "Very well", she said, "what else?"

Later, when the meeting was complete, Dany sought out Ser Barristan. Of all her advisers, he was the one who knew this new king, and the one who could best advise her on how to defeat him. Whether he would or not was another matter, this was Dany's chance to determine the depth of his loyalty, and whether or not he would desert her for the pretender king. She found him watching over his newer recruits whilst Ser Jorah was seeing to the defences of the city, making sure they were ready to repel a Yunkish attack when they arrived, for if the walls were anything like the walls of Astapor, they needed work.

"Ser Barristan", she greeted, her Unsullied guards halting as she said it, they could hold back in the company of Ser Barristan.

"Your Grace", Ser Barristan replied, bowing at the waist as he did so. "How may I help you?"

"How well did you know Jasper Baratheon?" Dany asked, getting straight to the point.

"Better than most", Barristan replied, "not as well as you would like", Daenerys raised her eyebrows, so Barristan continued "the Prince was always a bit of a mystery, he kept to himself where he could, and confided in few when he couldn't. The people who knew him best would be Stannis Baratheon and Beric Storm, his sworn shield since he was nine." Barristan looked whistful. "That sworn shield of his, he would have made a fine Kingsguard, in fact, with Jasper as king, I do not doubt that he currently is one. Maybe even Lord Commander."

Dany was curious, how could someone who trusted so few and kept to himself hope to have the loyalty of others. She asked Barristan this and her knight smiled. "He may have kept to himself, but he knew, or was just good at, gaining alliances and respect. He fought in tournaments as a skilled jouster. He rewarded people who helped him and helped them in return. He went to the defence of those in trouble. I remember, it was less than a year before King Robert died. Jasper leapt into the fast flowing Trident to save Lord Eddard Stark's daughter." Dany's lip curled, Eddard Stark, one of the Usurper's dogs as her brother had put him, had helped remove her father from his throne when it was rightfully his. "He had an… aura about him, people were attracted to him in a way. He may not have had the Lannister beauty of his siblings, but Jasper was more approachable, and likable, than his older brother, and his younger siblings followed his lead."

"Will any side against him?" Dany asked, for it was starting to sound like he may have the loyalty of too many lords for her liking.

Barristan contemplated his answer before he gave it. "It will be impossible for him to gain the loyalty of all of them, but he will most certainly try."

"What makes you so certain that he did not start the rumours about the Dragons?" Daenerys asked him.

"He spoke out against ordering an assassination against you when his father learned you were with child", Dany's hand closed over her belly, now permanently flat thanks to the maegi who had killed Rhaego. "But not out of kindness or honour, you understand, out of practicality. He pointed out that targeting you would not stop the Dothraki, but encourage them, he knew that the Narrow Sea was enough of a barrier, that it was not needed to target you. Now you have styled yourself Queen of Meereen, he will not view you as a threat worth eliminating until you decide to return."

_Because now I have Dragons, and he is afraid_, Dany thought, but did not say it out loud, for Barristan had already spoken against Jasper Baratheon feeling fear. "Thank you, Ser Barristan", she said, turning to leave, and wondering if Jasper Baratheon was all that Barristan said he was, more, or less. She would only find out when she landed in Westeros and held him to account for the actions of his father in usurping the rightful throne.


	71. AFFC The Dowager Queen

The whole court was waiting at the docks for the return of their King. News had reached them several weeks ago about how he had bravely confronted Lysa Arryn in the Eyrie, how she had taken her own life and that of her son. Jasper had named the new Lord of the Eyrie and Warden of the East as Harrold Arryn, formerly a Hardyng adopted into the House of Arryn since he was next in line to inherit the Eyrie. Once more Jasper had made her proud, of all her children, he had made her proud.

She remembered well the fear she had felt in the Throne Room, as she, Joffrey, the Northern bitch Sansa, Tommen and Myrcella in her grasp, waiting for Renly's men to come pouring into to rape and murder them. She knew the pathetic Lancel would not hold them back for long, but she would not abandon her place, she was the rightful Queen Regent, just as Joffrey was the King, her beautiful Lion King. And then Jasper had come through the doors, his armour black, but stained with blood, his sword glowing in the darkness. When he had removed his helm and thrown back his black hair, she was transported back, to that day at the Sept of Baelor when she had wed Robert. He looked just like him in that moment, Robert's one true son, wild, noble and powerful. In more ways than one. Robert had grown distant, just as Jasper had. He had been furious when Joff had been betrothed to the Highgarden marriage. Her uncle Kevan had likened it to how Tywin was when he had heard of Aunt Genna's betrothal to a Frey. There was some lion in Jasper, just not as much as there was Stag. Jasper all but forsook his family, retreating back to Storm's End in spite for his brother, leaving the capital all but undefended against the filthy Northern army of Robb Stark. He had abandoned her, and his siblings, when he should have been fighting to defend them.

When he had returned for the wedding of her beloved Joff to the Highgarden bitch, she had thought to mend the cracks, but he stayed with those of Storm's End, his primarily his squire, his sworn shield, and the girl with the swollen belly not three people down from her who was now his wife. Then disaster had struck. Her years of planning, her years of silent glee as Jaime's son would inherit Robert's throne were shattered when Joff had been murdered. She had been hopeful for recovery when Jasper had announced that he was likely to abdicate, but then his sworn shield, the disgustingly loyal bastard Beric had persuaded him otherwise, and now he ruled. Then her son had stripped her of her power, removing her from the council and taking more not of what the rigid and prude man Stannis said than her or her grandfather. She had hoped to kill Stannis, long ago, when Robert had first decreed that he was to raise Jasper, but the man was cautious to a fault. She had hoped to be rid of both Baratheon brothers before killing off Robert and ruling through Joffrey, but then Ned Stark had gotten too close to the truth, so she had to be rid of her oaf of a husband. But despite all of that, despite Jasper pushing her to the sidelines, he was still her son. He had done so much and she loved him. She had wanted to smother the boy when he had slipped from between her legs with barely a cry, but then she saw the chance to turn him into what Robert should have been, or even make him hate his own father. Jasper instead grew distant from both of them, he grew strong, he grew independent, and he grew into power. She knew that not one man in Westeros could sit the new throne as well as he could. He was her son, and she loved him.

As he disembarked from his ship, the _Winter's Fury__,_ he looked more regal than ever, his Kingsguard at his shoulders. That was another thing that Jasper had done. He had stripped her lover from his place in the Kingsguard, destroying careful political appointments, in order to fill the Kingsguard with lickspittles who kowtowed to his needs. The court bowed to him as he made his way swiftly to his queen and kissed her fiercely. Ladies swooned and men turned away in embarrassment, but Cersei's heart fell. What she would have given for Robert to treat her that way when they were married. As Jasper caressed his wife's seven month grown belly, and whispered sweet nothings in her ear, Cersei placed herself in the queen's shoes, but it was not Robert kissing her, holding her close and whispering words of affection in her ear, no he had looked at her stomach as though it was different to the rest of her, all of her that mattered. No she imagined Jaime, her love, her soul, the man she was meant to be with, in the face of gods and men, no matter what they said, she and Jaime were one.

As the court followed the king back to the Red Keep, Cersei knew she had to find her brother, she had an ache inside her that only he could soothe.

She found him in a meeting with four officers of the Gold Cloaks, new officers who were good at their jobs and loyal to the crown. She pursed her lips in annoyance at the sight. Did Jaime know nothing, political appointments, men personally loyal to you, that is who you fill the City Watch officer positions with. But his king had given him an order and, instead of improving the position of House Lannister, he did as he was bid. When the officers were dismissed, she threw herself at her brother, who waited to make sure the officers were gone, and then took her, hard and fiercely on the table. Sure enough, her ache was gone by the time he was done.

"I love you Cersei", Jaime whispered to him when they were done, holding her close, one of his cloaks covering them.

"I love you to Jaime", she whispered back, leaning up and kissing her brother slightly.

Jaime smiled when she said those words, like he always did, ever faithful to her. "I am to be married Cersei", he said and she stood up in alarm, the cloak falling from her revealing them both in their nakedness.

"What!" She demanded of him. "To whom?"

"Jeyne Marbrand", he told her, pulling on his breeches. "Ser Addam's sister". Cersei knew the girl, a sweet girl, to be sure, but not her. "I do not want her Cersei", Jaime insisted, holding her in his arms, unmoving. "I want you. I would take you to Casterly Rock, marry you, give you more children so one of them could inherit the Rock. But we can't".

Cersei pushed him away. Jaime's duty had meant nothing when she had pleaded with him to give her Robert's sons. He had changed in captivity in Harrenhal. It must have been overexposure to Stark men, but he cared about it now. She had gone to him in the White Sword Tower, back when he had been Lord Commander, but he had refused to make love to him in the tower, calling it sacred and saying that he would not defile it. But she knew it was impossible as well. To marry Jaime, to follow her heart, would be to confirm the rumours that Joffrey was not hers, that Tommen and Myrcella were not hers. She could not allow that, she would be executed for sure, her father would disinherit them both, even the monster Tyrion, the creature who had murdered her first son and the gods had permitted live for it, as punishment for hers and Jaime's sins no doubt, would look better than them. They would lose everything, and that was not a price that Cersei was willing to pay. "I'll talk to father", Jaime told her, "I will make him change his mind. I shall summon you tonight, when I have learned what he has to say".

Cersei nodded. She knew what her father would say, but she could have her brother again, on a bed that would be more comfortable that the table of Jaime's office.

* * *

Cersei had summoned Joy Hill, her cousin, to her quarters. Something had to be done about Jasper's bastards, he was treating them too kindly, Robert at least had the decency not to raise them himself, not that he raised any of his children. She would make her cousin quietly get rid of them, using poison that could not be traced. It was uncommon for children to die young, their deaths would not be questioned, she would tell Joy to do it one at a time. The Grand Maester would examine them and find nothing of note, she would make sure of that. Yes, she thought, as she sipped some wine whilst waiting, she still held some power in the Keep.

Her cousin entered, looking slightly scared, and beautiful, but nothing like herself. "Cersei", she said, curtsying.

"I am your grace", Cersei bristled, she should be addressed properly.

"Forgive me Cersei", Joy said, far more boldly than Cersei remembered her being, "but you are not the Queen".

Cersei took deep breaths. She knew she had to keep quiet and calm if she was to be able to persuade Joy to kill the bastards. It was all for Jasper's benefit. It was. "Joy, have a seat", she said, passing over the veiled insult that Joy had given her. She was a bastard herself, Cersei did not need to punish her so much as she was punished by her nature. "How are Jasper's children?"

Joy's eyes narrowed a fraction. "Why?" She asked.

"They are my grandchildren, bastards though they are", she replied, "I am interested in their well being". That only made Joy more suspicious, which was good, for she wanted Joy to come around to the truth, that the bastards only hurt Jasper, it was for his good that she should get rid of them. "However", she continued, "they must go".

"Go?" Joy asked.

Cersei nodded in mock graveness. It was far more likely that Joy would agree with her if she seemed adverse to the idea herself. "As long as they are here, they are a threat, for my son, for the king, they must go".

"Are you suggesting that we kill them?" Joy whispered.

"It is regrettable, but-"

"No!" Joy almost shouted, standing up quickly. "They are my blood as well, and Jasper asked me to look after them".

Cersei leapt up after her and seized her by the arm. But Joy wrenched it from her grip, "I am a member of Jasper Baratheon's household, and I will not harm his children", she declared darkly, "he had only treated me well, I will not repay him with his family's blood. Luckily for you, that means I will also forget this ever happened. She rushed from the room before Cersei could stop her. She was dumbfounded, how did Jasper get people to love him so much? Stannis could not have taught it, it must have come from Robert. She decided that she would wait for tomorrow, and then an accident would befall Joy, one from which she would never recover.

* * *

That evening, as she was about to disrobe from her Lannister red dress, there was a knock at the door to her chambers. She swept over and opened the door. It was Ser Rolland Storm, one of Jasper's Kingsguard. "Lady Cersei", he said, bowing his head in respect. "Your brother Ser Jaime wishes to speak with you".

"Jaime sent you?" Cersei asked.

Ser Rolland shook his head. "He did not send me, he _asked_ me to collect you and bring you to him".

"Bring me to him where?" She asked the white armoured knight.

Ser Rolland simply stepped aside and indicated for her to leave. "If you would like to follow me, Lady Cersei", there was a slight sneer in his voice, or so she thought, but she followed him none the less.

She knew the Red Keep well, she had lived here most of her life. She knew where Ser Rolland was taking her. It was to the Throne Room. She wondered why Jaime wanted to meet her there, it would be better to meet where no one could find them. She would berate him after they had made love, telling him to be more careful next time.

They reached the Throne Room door, and Ser Rolland stepped aside after opening it, so that she could go through. She held up her dress, careful not to trip over it as she descended the steps. But when she was at the bottom, the door slammed shut and the sound of swords being drawn made her spin around. Ser Rolland, Ser Guyard and Ser Loren all had their swords out and were barring the way out of the room. She turned just in time to see Ser Robar Royce as he wrapped a rope tightly around her, binding her arms to her body. "What are you doing!" She demanded of the Kingsguard. But Ser Robar dragged her to the centre of the room, where she saw a sight that made her heart freeze. Jaime was on the floor, on his knees his head bowed, thick course rope wrapped tightly around him like vipers. Next to him was Tyrion, also bound and on his knees. She looked up, around the room Sers Beric and Robar were stood at the base of the throne, swords out as well, all of the Kingsguard had their helms off, their faces stony and hard, only one of them was missing, Ser Balon Swann. Around the room at least fifty Baratheon guardsmen were stood, clutching spears, halberds, swords and crossbows, all standing at arms, weapons held tightly in their grips.

This made her heart froze, but she then saw something that made it shatter.

Jasper was sitting on the Eightstone Throne. His fingers gripping the stone roughly, twitching with rage, his hair hung around his face as he looked down, as black as the tunic he was wearing. She had not seen him at first because the stone was dark in the night and so were his clothes. But then he looked up at her with an expression sharp as steel, and murder in his eyes.


	72. AFFC Jasper II

As soon as he had disembarked from the his ship, Jasper had wanted nothing more than to get some rest, it had been a long journey for him and he was tired. So he quickly led the court, which had assembled to greet him, back through the city and to the Red Keep, when he was there, Arya whispered that she had something to tell him, Jasper had been planning to call a Small Council meeting in order to formally establish Harold Arryn as Warden of the East and Lord of the Eyrie in the eyes of the Council, given the complications in the succession due to the lack of heirs. But, Arya looked serious, and he knew it had to be a complication with the pregnancy, with his son, so he followed her to his quarters, and was surprised to see Arya' mother there. He knew she would have arrived, but thought that this was a private thing to discuss.

After nodding in greeting to Arya' mother, he looked to Arya, holding her face tenderly in his hands, and looking her up and down. "What' the matter?" He asked, "is something wrong with our son?"

"What?" Arya asked, confused. "No, nothing", she said, after realising what Jasper meant and Jasper' heart flooded with relief.

"Thank the gods", he breathed, 'then what is it you wanted to discuss?"

Arya looked nervously to her mother, who nodded grimly, something most unlike Lady Catelyn, from what he remembered when he went to Winterfell in his youth. Arya pulled him over and sat him down, sitting down next to him on a recliner. "We", she began nervously, "we have discovered why my father was murdered."

Jasper looked between the two of them quickly. "You have?" He asked them, "why was it?"

"Better you see for yourself, my king", Catelyn said, and she passed him a large book. He knew what it was based on the title. It was the book that detailed all the lords of the Seven Kingdoms, all the houses and nobles in them. It was on the pages related to his house, House Baratheon. He looked down it, but he was tired and slightly worn out from the sea journey.

"What am I looking at here?" He asked.

"Look at your siblings", Lady Catelyn said, and he did. The book detailed them as they are.

"What about them?" Jasper asked.

Arya it seemed, was getting impatient with his slowness on the matter, but he could not see what it had to do with his father by marriage' death. "They do not have black hair or blue eyes."

"So?" Jasper asked, "my mother does, they get them from her."

"But everyone in House Baratheon has them", Arya insisted, "everyone, and if you look at House Lannister." She indicated for him to turn to the House so he did. "Not all of them have golden hair and green eyes. And they have married Baratheons before."

Jasper found the pages where they did and sure enough, Lannister and Baratheon had married into each other before, the last time they did was ninety years ago. Their children had black hair and blue eyes. He looked at the other marriages, and black hair and blue eyes came from them as well. He turned back to House Baratheon, looking at his brothers and sister again with a frown. "Why don't they", he muttered.

Arya was impatient, no doubt due to her being with child. "You know why", she snapped, 'they aren't your father'."

Jasper looked up at her, 'that is a dangerous accusation, you will make it quietly or not at all."

He spoke in a tone that had the effect of quietening Arya, but she still spoke. "I have seen two of your father' bastards, you have seen more, you cannot deny they all look like him, how is it that his baseborn children look like him, but three of his four trueborn children do not. Answer, they are not his."

Jasper took a few deep breaths, it made sense, that must have been why Jon Arryn had visited brothels, as Ned had told him, Jon Arryn must have discovered the truth to. Did his mother murder him as well, was he wrong about Lady Lysa? No, she had admitted it, all but admitted it in front of the court of the Eyrie. "If she… if they aren't", he began.

"They aren't", Arya cut across him.

"Then who is the father?"

Arya and Catelyn looked to each other. "We have thought about that", she said, "and there is only one way that Cersei could guarantee her children not being suspected. By making them look like her, and there is only one way that could be guaranteed."

Jasper sighed, there was only one option. Not only was it the only person because of what they suggested, but his mother certainly did love him. "Her brother", he all but whispered, "Ser Jaime."

They both nodded.

Disbelief changed to anger, denial became hate and Jasper began shake with fury, how could tey do this to him, to his family, Baratheon gave Lannister Royal Blood, and they repaid that with incest. "BERIC!" He yelled and his lord commander entered his room immediately, sword half drawn and looking for trouble.

"Jasper?" He said alarmed, sheathing his sword, "what is the problem?"

Jasper could not speak, he was almost blinded by fury. He simply indicated Arya and let her explain what had happened. All the while, other names, other betrayals came to mind, but primarily Tyrion. He must have known, he knew that Tyrion was lying when he said he didn't know, but he did not know what it was he didn't know. But now he did. How could he keep such things from him. He had a right to know this, and Tyrion had denied him. Beric took the news much better than he had.

"What would you have me do, my king?" He asked, dropping to one knee. That was enough to show how serious it was, if Beric was bowing to such a degree, it could be nothing but the most serious.

"First, organise the Kingsguard", Jasper said, calming down enough to give his instructions and plan out his moves. "When darkness falls, sent Ser Rolland to bring my mother to the Throne Room. Send Ser Loren to bring Tyrion and Ser Guyard to bring Jaime, when they arrive, bind them. I want fifty of my guardsmen in the room as well, armed and ready to move. Ser Balon will take command of the rest, whilst you and Ser Robar are with me, send Ser Arys to collect Tommen and Myrcella, bring them as well, and Ser Balon will disarm the Lannister guardsmen, I want no deaths if possible, but they must be relieved of all weapons so they cannot attempt a rescue. Also order the drawbridge raised, the gold cloaks have been trained by uncle Jaime, they may have loyalty to him and I want no interference from them. When the three of them have been bound and secured, I want Stannis and Tywin summoned as well."

Beric only nodded, "what shall we do until sundown, your grace."

Jasper got to his feet. "Summon Devan, ready my armour and my training swords, all of you as, all seven. I really need to hit something."

His stress and anger had somewhat abated in the training yard, although he was covered in many bruises, for he had warned his knights that if they held back on him, he would smash them in the heads until they became simple. Thankfully, they had taken it lightheartedly, and had simply replied that he would regret his statement. Not one person had left the arena without many a bruise of some sort, and Jasper thanked them greatly for it.

That evening, he made his way to the throne room and sat upon his new, considerably more comfortable throne, as his Kingsguard went to work. The first to arrive was Tyrion, bound in rope and placed in front of the Throne. Jasper looked at him, glad that Tyrion had come first, he wanted to know why Tyrion had lied to him.

"What is this Jasper?" He asked, angry and confused.

"I asked you", Jasper replied, seething like an armourers furnace, "again and again, why was Ned Stark killed, and you lied to me. You knew why, you knew of this insult to my honour, and that of my house, and you covered it up."

"I did not Jasper I-"

"Do not lie again!" Jasper warned, his voice low and threatening. "I know you know, and you will suffer for it."

Tyrion looked confused, not to what Jasper had said, he knew that, but rather at how he knew. "You learned this in the Vale."

Jasper shook his head, "my wife has not been idle, she knows the truth about your siblings. I know you know the truth, do not deny it, what I want to know is why you didn't tell me." Jasper looked intently in to his eyes, Tyrion had to know the truth, or else he would have told Jasper what he thought the truth to be.

Tyrion looked to the side. "I knew you would harm Jaime, I could not have that on my conscience." Jasper looked down, waiting to see who came next. It was Jaime, being roughly manhandled by Ser Guyard.

"What is happening?" He asked, much calmer than Tyrion.

"What _happened_", Jasper said, "is that you fucked my mother." Jaime said nothing more.

He looked down again, waiting for his mother to arrive so he could look her in the eye and see why she did it, why she dishonoured his house and father. He did not have to wait long. Unlike her brothers, she came in unbound, but a quick gesture from Ser Rolland got her bound and dragged her down to her knees by Ser Robar. He did not answer when she demanded to know what happened. He simply waited, waited for the news he needed to hear. Soon enough, Ser Balon entered the throne room, a bloody sword in hand. "Your grace", he said, dropping to one knee. "The Lannister Household guard have been disarmed, three resisted and lost their lives for it, but the rest were too confused or surrendered."

Jasper nodded, "good work Ser Balon, are they being watched?"

Ser Balon nodded, "yes your grace, Ser Lyonel Fell is watching over them with the men."

Jasper nodded, Ser Lyonel was a good knight and true, which was why Jasper had named him the head of his household guard in King' Landing. "Why are we here Jasper?" His mother asked, but he held out his hand, Tommen and Myrcella would arrive soon, they needed to hear the truth about their parentage. It pained him, but they had to know the truth, for the rest of the Kingdoms would, far better that they hear it first.

Soon they arrived, Tommen rubbing his eyes sleepily, and Myrcella looking confused. "Jasper", she asked when she saw her mother and who she thought was her uncle Jaime, with her uncle Tyrion on the floor, bound and helpless. "What is happening?"

"You will see my sister", he said, sadly. How had it come to this, how had his family been cursed so much by the gods. Maybe this was why Tyrion had escaped the murder of Joffrey, the trial had been for regicide, but Joffrey was no true king. "Ser Beric", he said, monotonously, "read out the sentence."

Jasper shut out his ears, not wanting to hear the accusations being made, for they made him feel ill. Beric read out the sentence, the evidence, and his mother looked up at him with fear in her eyes, a fear he relished. She would be accountable for her actions today, he would see to it. "You have one chance", Jasper said, once it had been read out, "one chance to lessen your sentence, tell me, here and now, who else knew about your… your incest." The sounds of weeping came from the side, Myrcella had broken down, clearly horrified. He would comfort her later, for now, justice had to be meted out. He had lied, for their crimes, all of them would die. Tyrion for lying to him when he was king, for deliberately hiding treason, Jaime for fornicating with the Queen and his mother for adultery to the King.

Jaime and Cersei said nothing, but Tyrion did. "The Grand Maester", Jasper looked up in alarm. "He knew, he let Jon Arryn die because he knew that he would tell Robert and bring ruin upon House Lannister."

"Ser Rolland", Jasper looked to the second best sword in his Kingsguard. 'Take some men and arrest the Grand Maester, take him to the black cells." Ser Rolland nodded and left, four guardsmen at his back. "Anyone else?"

Tyrion shook his head. Jasper nodded, and turned to Ser Arys. "Arys, take my siblings back to bed, the same chambers, and watch over them."

"Of course Your Grace", he said and took Tommen, who looked confused, and Myrcella, who looked distraught, by the hands and led them out.

Jasper turned to other men of his Kingsguard. "Ser Loren, fetch uncle Stannis, Ser Guyard, bring me my grandfather." They also nodded, sheathed their swords, and left the room.

Everyone was silent now that Myrcella had been escorted out. Cersei looked frightened, Tyrion looked like he had when Jasper had sentenced him to trial by combat, but this time there would be no trial by combat, they would die for their crimes, that was certain, they would be executed by the King' Justice. A small voice in the back of his head was screaming at him to give them a trial, but a larger one roared out that his mother had given his father no trial. That much he knew, for Joffrey had been born less than a year after the wedding of his mother to his father. At most the moon could have turned three times before his mother gave in to her filthy desires for her brother and spread her legs for him, tainting the bed of kings. "You are all dead", Jasper told them, "you and the Grand Maester, understand that now. Or don't, it matters not to me, you will face the correct justice for your crimes."

"I am your mother", Cersei proclaimed desperately.

Jasper did not deign to respond. She was worthy of no response.

Stannis arrived first, when he arrived, Jasper once more made Beric explain what was happening. When he learned the truth, Stannis looked at the Lannisters with disgust. Jasper indicated for Stannis to take one of the seats, so he did. Then Lord Tywin entered, the first person to do so not led by one of the Kingsguard, he stormed up to Jasper, taking a glancing look at his children before stopping several metres from the throne. "What is the meaning of this your grace?!" He demanded.

Jasper looked up at him. "Your children", he spat, are a stain upon my house." As he declared this the Grand Maester was forced into the room and onto his knees, bound by his Kingsguard. Tywin looked confused, so he declared, "my father sought to put an end to brother fornicating with sister in the bed of Kings. But he failed, Joffrey, Tommen and Myrcella come from Jaime' seed, not his."

Tywin looked over at his children in alarm. "A false lie", he declared.

But Jasper was insistent, he waved at Beric and once more Beric told the evidence and the crimes to the room. Tywin looked to his children as Beric did so, probably thinking of some way he could get them out of the evidence. "Is this true, Your Grace?" He asked.

Jasper was surprised, he had expected his grandfather to be indignant. "Yes", he said, "it is."

'then I disavow myself of the traitors", he declared, "I disown all my children and leave them to your judgement." That shocked Jasper more, but he nodded, and Tywin turned and left. _He must have realised there was no sparing any of them, and now seeks to disavow himself of them before their crimes are announced to the continent. _

'er Balon", his knight turned to him, "you may return the weapons to the Lannister guardsmen, and grandfather", he called out as Tywin reached the door. He turned to him, eyebrows raised. "I want that in writing." Tywin nodded, and departed the room.

"Jasper", his mother whispered, but Jasper had had enough.

"No, you do not have that right", he declared, standing up and making his way down the steps of the throne. "Take them to the cells, all of them, and may they rot there!"

As his Kingsguard seized them, a servant rushed in. "Your Grace", she panted, "your sister, she, she is distraught, she is holding a knife against her belly. Jasper nodded and rushed from the room, tearing down the corridors to his sibling' chamber. He burst through the door. Ser Arys had his hands out, trying to calm Myrcella down as she held a small but sharp knife against her dress over her belly.

"Myrcella!" Jasper shouted, rushing forwards.

'tay back", she shrieked hysterical.

"Put the knife down", Jasper replied, "you don't want to do this."

Myrcella was shaking with tears, her eyes darting from one man to the other. 'Ser Arys out", Jasper said.

"Your Grace?" Arys replied.

"Out! Now!"

Arys nodded and left with the guardsmen, leaving Jasper alone with Myrcella. "Please", she whispered, "let me do this."

"Never", Jasper declared, he drew his own dagger from his belt and held it to his own stomach. "You stab yourself and I will do the same."

"But you are pure", she pleaded, "untainted, I am sick, disgusting, impure."

"You are not", Jasper assured her. He held out his other hand, palm out, "you are my sister, I love you and if you kill yourself I will never forgive either myself or you."

He stepped closer to her. Her knife did not move. He took another step, she cut open her dress, exposing her smooth, pale belly for him to see. It was a belly he had tickled many times in his youth, made her face light up with joy and laughter, how he ached to see it again. He took another step forwards and, when Myrcella raised her knife to plunge it into her, he leapt forward and seized her wrist, making her drop the knife before he pulled her into a hug. He held her tightly to him, she tried to push away at first, but not for long, and she eventually gave up and simply started sobbing into his shoulder. Jasper took her in his arms and carried her over to her bed, he set her down as she sobbed more deeply into the pillows. He rushed quickly over to the door and opened it. 'er Arys", he said, quietly, "where is my brother?"

"Lady Joy is with him in his chambers", he said, "he is confused and scared." Jasper nodded, Joy could take care of him.

"My children?" He asked, his Kingsguard were all with him and now Joy was with Tommen, who was looking after Arthur and Cassanna?

"Ser Loren is watching over them for now", Arys said. Jasper nodded again, Loren would keep them safe.

'then I need you to go to my wife", Jasper told his knight, 'tell her I need to stay with my sister for now, she is in danger from herself. Apologise to her for me."

Arys nodded, "of course your grace, but who will watch over you?"

"Beric will be here before long", Jasper said, "get some rest tonight, Ser Arys, I may need you tomorrow."

Arys bowed, "I wish you well, my king." Jasper nodded and shut the door. He made his way back over to Myrcella' bed, and climbed in, he held her close and kissed her golden hair, she was still sobbing into his chest, but Jasper only comforted her. It was one more thing that his mother would pay for.

The next night, Jasper was heading down to the cells, Beric behind him with the White Book. Beric was to speak with Ser Jaime and try to fill in his pages more. Jasper had protested, but Ser Beric replied that it was the Lord Commander' duty, not the king', so he gave in. Jasper went to speak to his mother. He had had five glasses of wine in quick succession to build up his courage for the encounter, he had never held his liquor well, but he was not completely drunk after five glasses, he could still think straight. He would be sleeping with his sister again tonight, for she was not yet recovered, but he hoped to be back with Arya when his son was born shortly.

When he arrived in the dungeons he told the three men he had ordered to be waiting to remain outside until he called them. They were all hideous and pug nosed, likely with a great amount of dung for brains, but they knew what they were doing and were the best in the city. He took a breath and opened the cell door.

"I did not know that you would come", his mother said when he stepped into the room, she was sat down with some dignity on one of the benches. "But I thought that you would."

"Of course I would", Jasper replied, "I need to hear the truth, and hear it from you."

His mother looked at him with a strong gaze and emerald eyes that he had desired for so long but now detested. One of the only lessons she had ever given him was to never turn your gaze from another, but to look them in the eye until they backed down. She knew the subject well it seemed, for she never looked away, not even now, when she was completely at her mercy and she was going to die at his command. "What truth did you want to hear?" She asked, still not averting her gaze.

"Why did you do it?" He replied simply.

"After everything your father did", she said, without hesitation or doubt, perhaps she knew there was no point in lying when her fate, and that of her brothers was decided, or maybe she felt he deserved the truth, Jasper didn't know. "There was no chance of me suffering to bear his children."

"You bore me", he countered, "and I am still here."

"You were to be everything he was not, good and pure, _my_ son." Jasper stared into her eyes, neither of them were blinking much. Neither backing down.

Jasper then remembered something his mother had told him, something that he had believed until Stannis dissuaded him of the notion. "You told me", he said in a low seething voice, "you told me that, were I ever unsure, I should look to you, your eyes would tell me whether my action was correct in front of the court, without me having to voice my own doubts. Joffrey may never have learned that you simply wanted power, but, with Stannis' help, I did. Only then did I notice it in others", he leaned in close to his mother, who still held his gaze, was she taunting him? "You had much of the court looking for the consent of Cersei Lannister, officers in the City Watch, courtiers, Septas, knights and lords bannermen, all of them looked to you, knowing that the wealth of Casterly Rock, and, due to Joffrey's inability to be subtle with his glances, the favour of the next king, were to be gained!" He had to refrain his temper, Stannis would never forgive him if he murdered his mother in her prison cell, but justice, that was his to mete out.

"And you are better than Joffrey", she said, not in fear or pleading, but as simple fact, "do not think I could not see it. But I would always prefer Jaime's children, sweet beautiful Myrcella. Kind and caring Tommen, I would have seen either of them on the throne before you, because of your father."

"You would have destroyed my house!" He roared back at her, "all for your own selfish desires and lust for a golden haired, green eyed heir to the throne. I will not permit it any longer." He looked into her eyes, determined to make her submit, but she would not flinch, she had a courage about her, that was certain, but it only enflamed his anger more. He walked back to the door and banged on it three times, it opened and the three men entered.

"It is true", she said, the darkness of the cell obscured the faces of the men, but she had not looked away from his gaze, so would not have seen them had there been a dozen burning torches in the room.

"You coddled Joffrey, told him that through power he could have whatever he wanted. That he could make anyone submit."

She was defiant now, "any true king would, any true Lannister King would."

She had sealed her fate. "There is more to it than that", Jasper seethed at her, how could she claim that House Lannister was superior to the Baratheons? Their founding, as the Durrandons came from a union of a great warrior to a goddess. They won through war not trickery, it was they who cast down the Dragons. He took a breath, contemplating one last time, whether to go through with his punishment.

He would.

"You wanted me to have your hair and eyes", he told her, still not removing his gaze from hers. "Very well then", he said, "I shall have _your _hair, and _your _eyes", he beckoned forward the leader of the three men, a man who repulsed him, but one that was needed in every king's court. "Shave her treasonous head", one of them stepped forward and began cutting her hair roughly with a rusted blade, so close to the scalp that blood was drawn. "And put out her tainted eyes."

Her eyes widened and looked in fear at the two other men, as one of them held her fast and the other pulled out a spoon like instrument. _She broke contact_, Jasper thought to himself, she had looked away. "No!" She all but shrieked, "no you can't do this!"

"I am king", Jasper reminded her simply, his lip curling up as the torturer lowered the spoon towards her face, and she kicked and struggled in a futile manner to get out of the way. "And you will never have power over me again"

His mother's screams permeated the room. Jasper would not be surprised if the whole dungeon had heard it. She screamed like Jasper had never heard, not in battle, not in war, not in his darkest nightmares. Cersei Lannister's screams were more horrifying, and delightful than them all.

Just before gouging her eyes out of her skull, leaving dark bloody pits where once there were emeralds, Cersei Lannister took sight of her son, her one legitimate son, one she had loved and hated in equal measure, and the one that had secured her failure.

His victory over her was the last thing she ever saw.


	73. AFFC Djoran II

_A/N: Okay, so I have changed last chapter's ending to a new and (possibly) improved Jasper II from AFFC. For those of you who have read it before, the only change is the last scene, between Jasper and Cersei, and for those of you who have not, you have avoided me scarring you mentally. _

Djoran seethed, once again, at the incompetence of the Yunkish slavers. Despite their inability to act in the face of the boys at Astapor, they still insisted on commanding the forces against Daenerys Targaryen. He had spoken out against it just now in the slaver command tent. He had advocated granting him command of the men and launching an assault against several sections of the wall simultaneously, with trebuchets supporting battering rams, ladders and siege towers as they used their superior numbers to overwhelm the Valyrian whore's defences and sack the city. But the cowardly men had instead banished him to command the eastern camp with two legions of Ghiscari. He felt confident with his men around him, trustworthy legionnaires whom he could count on to serve effectively in battle. But he had no command power in terms of the battle. The Yunkish were building half a dozen trebuchets with the limited wood they had available, no towers, no rams, no ladders, just trebuchets. The Sellswords were all there as well, the Company of the Cat, the Windblown and the Long Lances, together with two more of his legions, they provided the only stabilising force amongst a horde of unruly, scared, poorly led slave soldiers.

Silver was still with him, he thought deliciously back to the night they first arrived, when he had told her to pretend to be Daenerys Targaryen. Oh how hard and fast he had fucked her, but it had been a short fix, for he had left unsightly bruises on her arms and teeth marks on her shoulders by the time he was done. He nurtured her again, holding her close every night and taking her softly. Marking her had been a crime, he would not do so again, even though she assured him she had found pleasure in it.

He drew his mind away from Silver and looked over his pikemen and spearmen, drilling themselves hard in order to be ready for battle. He also had more news to be pleased about. The Masters of New Ghis had dispatched another two legions. Two had been at Astapor, his First Legion and the Second Legion, the fourth and fifth legions had come by sea to Meereen as the first two marched up the coast, and now the seventh and ninth were on the way to join them. Thirty six thousand men, skilled and trained. That made New Ghis the largest provider of men to the army gathering beneath the walls of Meereen, and yet still, the Yunkish refused to give him command. His horsemen were riding in formation. He smiled, his was the only legion to contain horsemen in it, the Masters of New Ghis were not willing to change the legions from the Lockstep forces of Old Ghis, but they failed to recognised that times had changed. Only with the inclusion of Heavy Horse in it's armies could New Ghis rise to the heights of the Old.

He made his way past his men and to his tent, he was to get into some more formal wear and join the slavers in meeting with the Valyrian whore inside the city to discuss peace terms. It made bile rise in his throat, but he fully suspected that the Yunkish were intent on accepting it, should the whore meet their terms.

He could only hope that she did not.

"And finally, I present Djoran zo Marok, of New Ghis, Scourge of the Basilisk Isles and Legate of the First Legion." It was the whore's girl translator, and Djoran gave a bow of respect, although he was loathe to bend to a girl, and a girl of Valyrian descent at that, but it was custom, and he learned how to please the masters of New Ghis well enough to do it to her.

"A pleasure to meet you Legate Djoran", the Dragon whore said, smiling with a fake sweetness that graced the face of any politician.

_Even now_, Djoran thought, holding back a snarl, _when she is the last of their ilk, the Valyrian bitch still scorns my people_. But he gave a simple reply that he hoped held no malice. "Likewise", he did not trust himself to say more. He did not trust himself to look at her either. For he had already seen her with a glance when he entered the room. Silver, his Silver was as beautiful as a Valyrian. This Daenerys would be beautiful amongst the Valyrians. Her hair was pure, completely free of any taint of colour, whilst her eyes were of a piercing deep purple, far darker, and more enamouring than his Silver's eyes, which seemed weak and pale in comparison. Had he been a weaker man he would have dropped to one knee and sworn his sword to her then and there, but he was not a weaker man. He was of the blood of Ghiscar, her dragon blood was anathema to him, he hated her, and yet was drawn to her in equal measure. It was a queer feeling, he did not know how to describe it.

But he stepped back and let Yurkhaz, the Yunkish supreme commander, who knew as little of war as the rest of them, step forward and begin speaking with Daenerys. The thought of this girl, despite her beauty, being a better commander than all the Masters of Yunkai sickened Djoran and he sought to find some air, but did not wish to cause an incident by leaving too soon. He took a peach from a passing servant, who was carrying them amongst the guests on a platter. He glanced at her neck, there were welts and scars on it which showed that she had been a slave, his fingers crushed the peach easily. Slaves should know their place, freedom was a reward they gained from hard work, not a luxury to be enjoyed or given to them without cause. He dropped the crushed ruins of the fruit on the floor, looking around for something to wipe his sticky hand on. Seeing nothing, he contented himself with the thought that Silver would lick his fingers clean when he got back to his tent.

As the dragon queen and the slaver lord began negotiating, Djoran and the other guests mingled with the rest of the court, talking amicably for some reason. Djoran used the opportunity to find a balcony, looking out over Meereen, from which he could see the bay. He enjoyed the peace and quiet of it, until a voice shattered it. "What are you doing here?" He spun, hand on the handle of his falcata to see a brown haired man, with a beard and moustache, wielding an Arakh, a sword often favoured by Dothraki horselords.

"Looking over the city", Djoran replied, his hand still on his sword, he did not know the man, but he had been at the shoulder of the dragon queen, so he would not trust him.

"Why?" The man was suspicious and persistent, a fine trait in a bodyguard, or a politician.

"It was once Ghiscari", Djoran replied, turning to look over it again, but straining his ears, just in case, "but even the relics of the Empire are falling to the dragonlords."

"Once", the man said, he had not moved, but Djoran did not lower his guard. "But no longer, the queen holds the city now."

"But for how long I wonder?" Djoran mused and the man stepped forward. Djoran spun, his sword out.

"You don't want to fight me", the man said, his own blade held loosely in his grip.

"Nor you me", Djoran replied, but neither man sheathed their swords.

"Daario!" A soft voice called, but it called harshly, and both men turned to see the dragon queen herself emerge onto the balcony from another door to the right. "My apologies Legate", she said. It was a false sweetness, he could tell. As much as he hated her Valyrian blood, she hated his blood of Ghiscar.

"None are needed, dragon queen", he replied in High Valyrian, shocking her clearly, which made him smiled.

With wide eyes she asked, "you know the Valyrian tongue?"

Djoran nodded, "you must know an enemy to defeat them, you knew that at Astapor, if you want a chance of winning this war, dragon queen, do not forget it."

"You are giving me advice on war", she asked, one silver eyebrow raised.

Djoran scoffed. "Please, you do not need advice to defeat the Masters of Yunkai, they know less of warfare than my horse."

"Truly", Daenerys said. Djoran smiled on the inside, _believe what I say you beautiful whore_, he thought, _it will only be easier for you to be beaten be my legions should you do so. _"That explains a great deal", she said, and looked him in the eye, her piercing gaze would send a weaker man away in tears, but not Djoran, he relished the challenge they gave. "I have agreed a truce with the Masters of Yunkai, in exchange for me allowing them to continue the slave trade. As a sign of good faith, they have declared that you are to remain a hostage with me in the city."

Cold fury flooded Djoran's veins, they would not, they could not, they did not have the right to make that decision, he was no scion of Yunkai, he was of New Ghis, they had no authority over him. "I do not believe you", he said simply.

Surprisingly, she smiled at that. "You are wiser than I gave you credit for", she said. When I saw you in my throne room, all I saw was a soldier, who would blindly follow orders."

Djoran realised that she had lied to him, but she thought that he had seen right through it. Better to keep her believing that. "You do not become a legate of New Ghis by marching blind, politics bore me, but they are a necessity in my city."

"A man who holds your city's legions could claim the title of king much as I did queen", she told him. He saw her game plan, she was trying to turn him against the Yunkish, to make him go home and press a campaign of making himself the New Ghiscari Emperor. The finest forces opposing her would be gone and she would have to deal with only fickle sellswords and pathetic slave soldiers. But she had underestimated two things, just how little politics interested him, he made New Ghis stronger by war, not by backroom plotting, and how much he hated the blood of the dragon.

"Let another take the throne", he said dismissively, "my place is, as it always has been, on the battlefield."

Anger stirred within him once more when he saw that she looked utterly disappointed. "It seems I was wrong", she said, "you are just a soldier."

"I know my place in the world." He declared in reply, "at the head of iron legions, teaching others their own." He was sick of Meereen, he swept from the room, he would return to his tent, to his loyal soldiers and Silver. He would train and he would prepare for the day the Harpy brought down the Dragon.


	74. AFFC Jon C II

_A/N: Here are some more answers to questions and comments given. I have had some interest into what would have happened had I continued the other story, it would be very different, so if you have any questions, send me a PM and I will answer them if possible. _

_bailomega – I did not plan to ever change the rape scene until the objections came in, other than that, thanks for the title._

_cdog21 - The Jasper you have seen for 71 chapters had just been told that a large part of his life was a lie, of course it provokes a reaction. As for the prediction, Cersei would not have gotten pregnant, at least not in the story I had planned._

_Falcon – It is more than adultery, it was adultery to the king, that alone is death, sometimes by burning in the Middle Ages. Also she put a false king on the throne, and, in Jasper's eyes, insulted his house, and he does not take that well. For example, when he learned that Joffrey was betrothed to Margaery, when she was a traitor previously, he withdrew his support from the war._

Jon Connington had never been to Dorne, he was slightly ashamed to think to himself. His love had married a dornish woman, but the Princess Elia was the closest he had ever come to Dorne, he had had no reason to go there. But now he did, and he was relying on the marriage he had hated and the woman he had been jealous of in order to win the throne for the one true king. But there was still time before he landed at Planky Town, and so he thought back to the beginning of his journey, and the stops he had made along the way. He had told the Golden Company to wait for a few days until he was out of port before cleansing the Red Temple of supporters of Daenerys Targaryen, but he had barely cleared the habour wall before shouts of fear and alarm drew his attention and he saw that the temple was ablaze, black smoke pouring from broken windows and choking the sky. Rumours travelled faster than ships it seemed, for when he arrived in Lys, where his ship was to weigh anchor in order to deal with some more trading with the city, he heard the locals speak of how the Triarchs of Volantis had hired the Golden Company to cleanse the temple. Apparently, a riot by followers of the Lord of Light had risen against the city, but most saw the Temple's destruction as a sign of wavering faith with their lord, and stood against the rioters. Once more the Golden Company had helped the Triarchs. Jon was glad, Harry Strickland appeared to be keeping the Volanteenes pleased, which meant more support for the crossing of the Narrow Sea. However he was thinking differently when the ship made it's final stop before Planky Town, Tyrosh. There he heard about how a warrior in black armour led the Golden Company into battle, a dragon helm atop his head. He had told Rolly and Harry to keep a leash on Aegon, if he revealed himself too soon, then crossing the Narrow Sea would prove all the more difficult. Thankfully, most seemed to believe that it was a champion of Volantis, who claimed Valyrian descent, not a formerly dead Targaryen rising from the grave. He still had to hope that Varys could smother rumours until such a time that Aegon revealed himself to Westeros. He wondered, as he drifted off to sleep, whether or not Prince Doran Martell had heard that rumour, and what he made of it if he did.

He closed his eyes and had to hope that the blood of relatives meant something in Dorne.

* * *

He disembarked the ship in Planky Town, his sword at his hip and his crest emblazoned uponhis hauberk, for Prince Doran's men to see so they could escort him to Sunspear to meet with the prince and his brother Oberyn. There, they would discuss the Targaryen Resurgence under the rightful king Aegon. He made his way along the wooden planks that made up the town, avoiding the glances of the Dornishmen at his distinctly undornish look. He was hoping to be treated as a common sellsword, as he had for many years as Griff, and thankfully, that seemed to be the case, since more looked at his sword than anything else.

"Griff", he turned, a man with brown hair and a lazy eye approached, a sword at his hip and the sigil of House Yronwood on his own hauberk. This was promising, for that was how Prince Doran"s man was to call to him, and if he was of House Yronwood, then Doran had taken the proposal seriously, and had begun discussing with his lords. Or it could be that this person had just been told to collect a man of his description by the name of Griff.

He approached the man, who nodded in greeting. "You are Prince Doran"s man?" He asked, and the man nodded.

"Cletus Yronwood", he replied, "I have orders from our prince to take you straight to Sunspear."

"Alone?" Griff asked, he hoped that was the case, a convoy brought trouble.

However, Cletus shook his head. "No, a score of knights will meet us a league north of the town to continue the escort."

Griff nodded, it was not ideal, but it was acceptable, not that he could refuse it anyhow, he was hand of Aegon VI, he had to make concessions and gain alliances, not alienate potential allies. So he took the journey to Sunspear in silence.

* * *

They arrived barely a day later, having ridden hard, for time was of the essence, Jon needed to secure the allegiance of the Dornish now, or Aegon would have no safe landing area, and the Dornish could simply tell Jasper Baratheon and put him to death. He was met by an axe wielding giant of a man, who led them in silence, along with yet another escort of half a hundred spearmen to meet with Prince Doran.

The elderly and greying Prince Doran was seated upon his chair of power in Sunspear, and Jon bowed before him. With them in the room were his brother Oberyn, who stood beside a woman with dark hair and eyes, presumably his paramour, and what appeared to be his daughters the infamous Sand Snakes. Jon counted five, which was strange, for he remembered there being eight, but three of the older ones were not there. On Doran's other side to his brother were his children, Arianne, Trystane and Quentyn, who looked at him curiously. "Prince Doran", he greeted, waiting until he was beckoned to stand. "I thank you for receiving me."

"It was a pleasure", the prince replied, nodding kindly to him, but Jon knew of Doran's play, he kept his hand hidden whilst always preparing, always plotting. "You say you have my sister's son, the true king, how could I refuse." Jon was glad, it seemed they did value family, but he could tell that they did not entirely know who Aegon was, and still had some doubts as to his legitimacy. "Before we discuss what to do with his claim", Doran continued, "it would be best that you hear of what has happened in Westeros recently."

"Will it be of use to us?" Jon asked, and Doran nodded

However, it was his brother Oberyn who answered. "The King's mother and her brothers have been arrested by the king, for fornicating in the bed of kings and seating a bastard of incest upon the Iron Throne."

Jon was taken aback, "is it true?"

"The King certainly thinks so", Oberyn continued, "either way, the Seven Kingdoms were shocked at the pronouncement."

"No more so than in the Reach", Prince Doran said, "for their heir Willas was to be wed to the King"s sister, however, now it has been said that she has no royal blood in her."

"How is the sister at fault?" Jon asked.

"It appears that all three of his siblings are bastards of Cersei Lannister laying with her brother."

"So the Reach will not support the King?" Jon asked, this was good, if the breadbasket region of Westeros would not support the Baratheons, then they had an advantage.

Doran did not look convinced. "The daughter of the Lord of Highgarden is at King"s Landing, married to the Master of Ships Stannis Baratheon, and, by all reports, already with child, it would depend upon how much Lord Mace values his daughter's life."

"We can discuss the advantages to be seized in the weakened Reach later on", Oberyn said, "for now, we have another issue to discuss."

Jon raised an eyebrow. "What issue?" He was concerned now, what would they ask, for Aegon should be available to wed Daenerys, the other being who bore dragon blood.

"We believe that Daenerys Targaryen will make her way West before long", it was the daughter, Arianne, "why should we support this Aegon over her, she has dragons."

"Three Dragons, yes", Jon replied, "but three young dragons, and standing against her is a mighty coalition, very capable of stopping her, and she has shown no inclination to come here. More in carving out an Empire in Essos."

"You believe this?" Oberyn said.

Jon nodded. He did not, but he only had to let the Dornish believe that for as long as it took for them to have publicly thrown their support behind Aegon. "She also knows nothing but what her brother could teach her about Westeros, Aegon has learned from me, Septas, knights and others, all from Westeros, he knows what he must do, this Daenerys is plunging recklessly forward, Aegon would be a better King than she would a Queen. More than this", Jon continued, hoping that they would believe him. "Aegon"s claim is better than her own, the son of a first son comes before a second son after all, those are the laws to succession in the Seven Kingdoms."

"Not in Dorne", Arianne pointed out, shooting a venoumous look to her brother which Jon did not understand.

"Not in Dorne no", Jon said, bowing his head in acknowledgement. "Dornish law shall always apply in Dorne, the words of Daeron the Good."

They looked impressed, and Jon was glad he had read up on this sort of thing on his journey.

"Very well then", Doran said, "our initial attempt to gain the Iron Throne under our control failed, this time, with the new throne we succeed."

"What attempt?" Jon asked.

"We joined Renly in the War, hoping to have men positioned in King's Landing, ready to support Daenerys, but Renly lost, as did we, we shall succeed with this one."

Jon was glad, but it seemed the Prince was not done. "In exchange, we wish for Arianne to be married to Aegon, upon his landing."

"The King expressly told me that he shall retain that prerogative", Jon replied, which was not true, but he could hardly say that he was hoping for Daenerys to return having just told the Dornishmen that she was not likely to. "But I believe he will be open to the idea, he knows that it is vital for him to marry." It seemed that Doran and Oberyn were content with the answer, not pleased, but content, so Jon thought it best if he elaborate. "Aegon intends to be a King who rules himself, does not let himself become manipulated by others, like his grandfather was with Tywin Lannister, he will make the best decision." That seemed to convince them, for which he was glad.

"Very well then", Oberyn said.

"So", Jon said, allowing the matter to rest, "what were the advantages you see in the Reach?"

"Tyrell hold over the Reach has always been tenuous", Oberyn explained, "but having lost a war, it is now weaker than ever, and many other hoses have begun eyeing Highgarden with seditious thoughts. As part of his conciliatory moves towards the Tyrells following the revelation about his sister, the King has assured them that they retain their lordship and lord Paramountship."

"And Wardenship of the South, I assume?" Jon said, but Doran shook his head.

"Following their surrender, Tywin Lannister granted that title to House Baratheon of Storm"s End, meaning Lord Stannis."

"So", Jon said, following, "we offer to grant those titles to the other lords if they support us, a full blown rebellion in the Reach leaves the way open for our own invasion.

Oberyn nodded. "But we should wait first, send word to my nephew, have him bring the Golden Company across, when we can assess our numbers properly, then we can progress to planning our assault.

Jon nodded, and prepared to send a messenger, for this was not a message to be intercepted by a Volantene looking for gold. The foundations had been lain, and Aegon's ascendance would begin.


	75. AFFC Daenerys II

The new leaders of Qarth, the Tourmaline Brotherhood, or so they were called, had dispatched an emissary to her. Daenerys was not sure what to make of it. Following the deaths of the Thirteen in Qarth, at the hands of the blue lipped warlocks and Xaro. She had left the city as soon as possible afterwards, making for Slaver's Bay to purchase the Unsullied, Qarth was where her war against Slavery began, and now they had come to treat with her. She knew there were slaves in Qarth, she had seen them, but Qarth did not breed or train slaves, they bought them. Given that this emissary was here, only now that she had abolished Slavery in the city, she could make an educated guess about where Qarth got it's slaves from.

The man who entered was flanked by four guards, heavily armed, with spears with curved steel tips, and crescent moon shields. He himself bore a small dagger at his waist that he easily surrendered to her guards. He was slight of build, wearing something far more functional than the old Thirteen had worn, folds of purple and gold cloth that were elegant and yet easy to move in. But the elegance disappeared at his head, where he wore a mask of solid and pure gold, sculpted to his features, a small hole for the mouth allowed his words to reach her, muffled and distorted though they were, she still understood them. "The citizens of Qarth send their greetings, Daenerys Stormborn", he said in a distinctly Qartheen accent. He bowed, "I am Xalen Aoran, merchant of the Tourmaline Brotherhood, Qarth's new leadership."

"A pleasure to meet you Master Aoran", Daenerys said, smiling, "what happened to the institution of the Thirteen?"

"Politics", Xalen Aoran replied.

Dany was curious however, what had happened to them, she had trapped Xaro and the traitorous Doreah, whom she had trusted as a friend, in the impregnable vault. "Avoiding questions and flippant retorts do not start a friendship well."

"My most humble apologies", he said, bowing again, and he seemed sincere. "I must confess I am new to negotiating with rulers, but the Brotherhood needed an emissary, so here I am."

"The Thirteen", she repeated.

He nodded, "The Pureborn and Guild of Spicers managed to rescue Xaro Xhoan Daxos from his vault", he began, but Daenerys cut across him.

"He said that Vault was impregnable", Daenerys replied, aghast, she still had the key to it.

"He also said it was full of gold, no?" Xalen added, "the self proclaimed King of Qarth did not keep his treasure in a vault, he was too clever for that. He and the other organisations, the Pureborn and the Guild of Spicers, fought over the squabbles of the Thirteen's gold and treasures, there was almost civil war on the streets of the greatest city that ever was or will be." He shuddered, the thought clearly repulsed him, maybe he was not a fighter, probably not if he was a ruler now. "In the chaos, the Brotherhood stepped forward, we took control, the Pureborn, the Guild of Spicers and the New Thirteen, headed by your old friend Xaro, are sidelined, we dictate policy in Qarth."

"What of Doreah?" Daenerys asked, was her old servant queen to the sidelined king as she wished?"

"You mean the girl who was with Xaro whilst trapped inside his vault no?" He asked her, and she nodded, "she did not come out alive. The Pureborn and Guild of Spicers were not so fast in getting into his vault, and you left no food in there with him." Dany felt like vomiting at his implication. "I sense", Xalen continued, cautiously, "that you are disgusted by the implication, it was not pleasant I assure you, be glad that you at least did not have to see it", he visible shuddered. Dany couldn't blame the man. "Perhaps, we could move away from this morbid topic, and instead talk of matters of state, dear queen, no?"

Dany took a breath, and nodded, "yes, that would be to both of our benefits, I do not doubt."

Xalen nodded, clearly glad to be moving to matters of finance and trade, things he knew well. "Qarth wishes to re-open former trade links between itself and Meereen."

"Trading of what?" Dany asked, although she already knew the answer, and she could almost see a smile behind the mask of gold.

"Slaves of course, dear queen", he replied.

"Meereen no longer participates in the Slave Trade", she insisted, "if you want slaves, go to Yunkai."

"Qarth is the greatest city that ever was or will be", Xalen commented, "we do not sully our stock with mediocres, Yunkai trains bed slaves and boy whores, we want better than that."

"Well then you have a problem, Meereen does not trade."

Xalen sighed, making an overly theatrical display of it, whether it was for the benefit of those who could not see beyond the mask, or simply as a trick of the trade, she did not know. "I have made arrangements with others in Qarth", he said, placing a hand over his heart in a sign of honesty, which almost certainly meant that a half truth was coming her way. "When we took control of the city, the Tourmaline brotherhood was able to seize most of the ships of the spice king." She remembered the Spice King, he had refused her request for ships once before, it was strange to think that had he given them to her then she would be in Westeros and he would still be alive and in power. "I believe, you asked him for ships, once before no?" Xalen continued.

"What of it emissary?" Dany asked curtly. "I asked, he refused, there is nothing more to say."

"_Was_ nothing more to say, sweet queen", he said, and Dany raised her eyebrows. "Now however, I am not so sure. I know that you took much of the Meereenese fleet for your own, many ships, and their crews. One hundred ships, the finest one hundred are coming here, they should be going through the gulf of grief even now. They will be yours."

Dany was alarmed, there had to be a catch. "You would give me ships?"

"On certain conditions of course", he replied. "You take the ships, leave with them, with them and the Meereenese ships, you have enough to transport your army across to your homeland and reclaim your birthright."

It was a tempting offer. "The Yunkish are scared, sweet queen", Xalen told her, in a hushed tone that still carried. "They are Ghiscari, they are scared of dragons, fear of them is in their blood. If I were to go to them, tell them of this, then no doubt they would halt their campaign and let you go in peace, then they retake the city for themselves, everyone leaves happily."

_Not the slaves_, Dany thought, but did not voice the matter, instead, she picked up on an inconsistency in his speech. "Go to the Yunkish", she said to him, "go to them first, then tomorrow, you come here with their representatives and representatives from their allies who are present, I want to hear their consent before I agree to anything."

Xalen paused, and then bowed, "of course sweet queen, anything to end the conflict for certain." He turned and left, his guards collecting their weapons as they did so."

Dany sat back and thought, did she want to go to Westeros now, could she abandon those who called her Mhysa? She shook her head, such thoughts were not for her when she had petitions to hear. "Send in the next one."

She had half expected and half hoped that the Yunkish would not come, it would make things easier, she would have to fight and defeat them, but they had come, all of the Slave Masters of Yunkai, representatives from their allied cities, Tolos, Mantarys, New Ghis, Xalen Aoran had brought all of them to her. Fat, finely dressed, armoured, reeking and disgusting, different traits for every one of them. "I welcome you", she greeted, with a false smile, all present repulsed her. "Thank you for coming."

"Of course, sweet queen", Xalen said, bowing low and with exuberance. "I have gathered them as you wished." The man from New Ghis, that she remembered from his confrontation with Daario shot a murderous look at the Qarthean. Of all present, he seemed to be the one who least wanted to be here. She would have to watch him, she had heard the reports, new legions had arrived, six of them from New Ghis, that was thirty-six thousand men, one hundred elephants and a dozen galleys, New Ghis seemed the most fervent in their hatred of her, he could cause trouble if he chose to disregard the peace efforts. She should try to win him over, for whether she was staying or leaving, peace was what she wanted and needed now.

The fat Yezzan, the richest man in Yunkai, rich and stinking, simperingly approached. "Queen Daenerys", he greeted, "it is our pleasure to resolve this conflict of interests now and together, than later and on the battlefield."

Dany bit her lip, wishing she had her Drogon here, he would make this easier and bearable, they would bend to her wishes and let her leave or stay as she wished. But he was gone, and Viserion and Rhaegal were chained in the catacombs. Others gave similar words of polite submission, bar the man from New Ghis, the representative of Tolos and the emissary of Mantarys, but all of the Yunkish had done so. Tolos had provided three hundred slingers, Mantarys had contributed ships to the blockade and a small regiment of spearmen, it was New Ghis that was the threat to her. She made a pledge to keep one eye on the man, his tanned skin and black hair, and his eyes that almost seemed to be black, but she suspected they were dark brown.

They spent what felt like hours, certainly several casks of wine, negotiating deals. Dany wanted a guarantee to the end of slavery, which they refused to give, they wanted to have all of Daenerys' freedmen back in chains, which she refused to give, her Mother's Men and Brazen Beasts were her soldiers, loyal to her, trusted her, she would not betray that trust by handing the chains back to their captors. The only compromise she would potentially reach was to get enough ships from the coalition to take as many of her men and women as possible across the Narrow Sea to a new home in Westeros when she reclaimed her birthright.

In the end, they decided to postpone all conflicts until such a time that a deal could be arranged between them or such a time that a deal became impossible. But Dany had a card left to play, she had spoken to the man of New Ghis before, and he had seemed more than willing to give up secrets of the Yunkish, and his pride of his own men bordered on arrogance, she could probably get him to talk about them as well. Jorah had told her once that the more she knew about an enemy the easier it would be to defeat them. "Legate Djoran", she spoke and the man, who was at the back of the leaving procession, turned, his subordinate as well. "I was wondering if you would dine with me?"

The man considered her offer, and then whispered something to the man who had come with him. When he had turned to leave, the legate looked at her again. "It would be a pleasure, Silver Queen", he said, and followed her and her guards to supper in her solar.

Dany decided to open the conversation over dinner by telling her of her time in Pentos, she wanted to make herself seem weak to him, then he might let his guard down and open up to her. She described her wedding to Khal Drogo, her trek across the red wastes and Qarth to him whem when, having been silent thus far, he asked, "it is clear, that your quest for the Westerosi Iron Throne", Dany wondered what he was getting at, "is what has defined you, driven you?"

Dany considered the question, "yes I would", she said.

He nodded slowly and then asked her, "show me something, you must have a physical representation of that, something cold and dead, hard and inanimate, yet worth more to you than it would be to any other being on this earth." She considered it, then nodded, she sent Missandei to recover her crown, and she did so, bringing the brown leather to her. Djoran examined it, nodding with approval over the intricate headpieces, three dragons in the colours of her children.

After he had examined it for some time, she said, "now you", she said, "show me something that defines you."

He nodded and fished out a pouch, a small one, of black leather. He pulled it open and fished out four silver objects, placing them on the table, they looked to be coins. Using his right index finger, he slid the coin along he table to her. She trapped it wither her hand and then picked it up to examine it. It was blackened with soot and burns, despite it being silver. On one side she could barely make out a face, so worn she could not determine any features, on the other side was a spearman, also heavily worn. "How much are they worth?" She asked, not knowing what a burned coin could buy.

Djoran smiled, "that depends upon who you are", he said, "to me they are priceless, to you, you would melt them down for the silver. Your Westerosi would not trust it for the burns", he indicated Ser Barristan and Ser Jorah. He narrowed his eyes slightly, "you don't know what these are, do you?"

Dany could only shake her head. "I am afraid I do not."

He scoffed, "of course you wouldn't", he muttered, he picked up the other three and held them up, from what she could tell, they had the same design on them. "This is Ghiscari silver", he told her, "four coins I recovered from the ruins of the city of Old Ghis itself."

Dany's eyes widened in alarm. "You have been to Old Ghis?"

Djoran nodded, "once, alone, it cost me three horses, four friends and much water, I almost died, but I recovered those four coins, the bone of a dragon claw and a scroll that had escaped the flames of the Dragons." He turned the coin around in his hand, "this", he pointed at the side facing her, "is Grazdan the Great, the founder of it all, and this", he turned the coin over, "is a lockstep legionnaire, the men who brought the world to heel." Dany was impressed, but Djoran was not done, "there was a collector in New Ghis who offered me my weight in gold for one of these. A Good Master of Astapor offered me one thousand Unsullied per coin, but they would not even buy me your crown."

"No", Dany said, "they would not." After a pause, she asked, "what do they mean to you?"

"They mean", he said, "that I will never let my city be engulfed by dragonfire." His eyes fixed upon her, "dragonfire and blood, that is what you bring to the world, you cannot see beyond the darkness of your own desires, you fight for yourself, and that is why you will lose to me." Daenerys was alarmed, this was a shift for him, and a rapid one at that. "Why do you seek your Iron Throne?" He asked her.

"It is mine", Dany replied, "by right, it was stolen."

Djoran appeared to have calmed down, for he raised his eyebrows in amusement. He even gave a light laugh. "By that justification, Meereen and the whole world belongs to Ghiscar, but you will not turn them over to me. Be careful before using your birthright as a justification, steel is what defines right, that has always been fact."

He stood up, having barely touched his food. "You are leaving?" She asked.

"I am", he said, holding out his hand for his last coin, she passed it back to him, it would not do to antagonise such a man. "Enjoy your own", he said, as he made his way down the steps and approached the door, he paused and turned, looking to her with eyes of steel. "I will not allow Dragons to harm my home, whether that means corpses or your departure is your choice."

Dany sat back, that gaze he had given her, it held a power to it, an iron ferocity, a determination brighter than her dragon's flames, and it told Daenerys one thing.

This was a man who would never back down.


End file.
